Calamity Plus One
by Arkytal
Summary: Tokyo has been split into 2 cities with the construction of the Wall, a massive structure designed to keep the sane people in New Tokyo, and the Marauders in Old Tokyo. A severe psychological change has occurred in the youth of Tokyo, and it's about to re-pave every street in corpses. Human corpses. Sequel to The Library.
1. I

Calamity +1

I

**A/N: So yeah, here we go. Anything I said to people concerning this story is now null and void. If you're reading this and haven't read The Library yet, it's advisable to do so, though not required. You'll just be a tad bit confuddled. Though most people will be after this chapter anyways.**

November 11, 2015

300m from the Wall, New Tokyo side

4:45 P.M.

"Report in, from the top."

Static.

"Patrol one, got nothing on the streets lining the Wall."

"Patrol two, the rooftops are clear, besides the bodies, of course."

"Patrol three, we got two kids playing cards on the corner of a street. Ain't bothering no one."

"Patrol four, all quiet here."

"Roger that, stay on alert, we don't know when or where they could attack from."

A snort came through the communications line.

"Captain, you've got to be kidding. There's been no sign of the bastards for over three weeks! They've probably killed each other off or some shit by now. And besides, even if they did fuck everything up, they're still just _kids._"

Not the kind of attitude for a border patrol to be exhibiting.

"Three, if you want to keep your job I suggest you keep your mouth shut and your finger on the trigger. Those _kids_ have killed more people in the past 3 years than there have been natural deaths in the country. Over 12,000 people are in graves because of that line. They are not kids. Not anymore. Ever since...whatever it was, they've shed that moniker. They're killers. They're butchers. More importantly, they're enemies of the state. Shoot to kill as soon as you see any of the fuckers. That's an order. However, if you kill an innocent youth due to lack of confirmation, I'll have your badge, your career, and your life. _Do. You. Understand._"

Stunned silence, as it was still on an open channel.

"Y...Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. I'll keep that in mind, ma'am."

"Good. Now, report in again."

"One, we've got some movement in the streets. Looks like some kind of march. All of 'em are wearing a black cloak, kind of like they're mourning or some shit...No weapons in sight though, and demographics are...well, all of them. I'm seeing a lot of guys, a lot of girls, some Blacks, some Hispanics, some Whites, and plenty of natural-born Japanese. What do you make of it, sir?"

"Two, we've also got something going on. Three individuals are coming down the street, talking and laughing...just some schoolkids, never mind."

"One, this is Sgt. Narumi. Keep your eye on them, do not engage unless engaged."

"Roger that, ma'am.

"Three here, we've got a truck rolling out of a garage at about 100m. It's looking armored...no visible weapons, might be one of those scavengers that have popped up recently...yup, some guys popped up and are starting to load scrap metal from the street into the truck. Nothing else to report."

"Four reporting in, we've got a couple armed Marauders heading for that group One just called in. Taking cover in the Wall just in case it turns messy out here."

"Roger that, but I repeat, do not engage unless engaged."

Affirmatives from all patrols, so I could finally go check on the radar crew. As soon as I got up, however, the radio began to flood with chatter.

"Woah, all of the marchers just took out firearms! I repeat, the marchers have firearms. Oh shit! They just dropped their cloaks; they're armored too! We've got body armor on the marchers!"

"Two here, several of the bodies on the rooftops just got up, there's a dozen snipers on the rooftop! Some of them are above Wall level, but none of them are targeting us; they're taking up positions on the marchers. Taking cover as well, this doesn't look good."

"Three here, that truck we just mentioned? Yeah, there's a machine gun getting mounted on it. I don't like the looks of this."

Well, peace never lasts. Especially not here. Never here.

"Yeah, they're starting to move towards the marchers. Still no shots fired, but they're getting awfully close to-"

A new tone of static cut through the comm, cutting off Patrol Three's update report.

"PROXIMITY ALERT: UNIDENTIFIED PERSONNEL IN CONTACT WITH THE WALL PROPER. PLEASE INVESTIGATE AT ONCE."

How. The. Fuck.

I jumped back into the comm channel, silencing everyone else as I spoke.

"Those marchers are going for the Wall! Everyone, get on your stations!"

What I heard back was the start of my nightmares.

"Agh! We're pinned down! There's too many! They've got grenad-AHHHH!" Patrol Two's lifesigns just flattened. No.

Oh no. This is why I hate working comms inside the Wall. I can't help on the frontlines when I could've saved lives.

The sound of heavy footsteps and gunfire came in through the channel.

"Ugh! This is...this is One! My partner just got shot up...The Marauders are being protected by the mob! It's getting close to the Wall..."

The sounds of machine gun fire this time, and screams, shouts, and crying this time.

"That truck is targeting us! We can't make a run for the security towers, it's a fucking meat grinder out here!"

"Snipers on the rooftops have began to engage us! We're stuck on the top of the Wall, Ishida just got fucking blown away when he tried to look around the blast shield! Whatever the hell they're using, it's fuckin' _big_, it pierced his helmet like it was nothing!"

Armed, organized revolt. Well, it could be-

BOOM.

The entire structure rocked from the force of the explosion, coming from below my feet. My face collided with the desk, bringing a wave of sharp pain to my head, but it was nothing compared to what I was hearing as I could practically hear the terror and pain being sown into the hearts and souls of those who are under my command.

"_FUCK!_ They just blew a fuckin' hole in the wall! They're coming out into the streets! There's gotta be damn near three hundred of the fuckers!" Chiba's never been the most wordy person...just as well, actually.

I brought up a camera on my computer screen, displaying the outside wall on the New Tokyo side.

It was absolute chaos, and the full-color output showed red. Red was everywhere. In the center of the screen one image dominated my view.

A Russian APC with a machine gun atop and a girl with long brown hair firing it. The camera was in front of the vehicle, most likely mounted to the lip of a roof somewhere, and it was plain to see who was firing the heavy weapon into crowds of civilians as they ran in terror.

The cross tattooed to her cheek was hard to miss, as was the look and composure of the devil.

"Warrior." The words left my lips before I realized it, and before the next wave of pleas for help entered my comm. I was still in the Wall itself, on an upper floor, and I could hear footsteps coming as my squad attempts to warn me.

"Ma'am, some of the main force is splitting off into the Wall itself! Run! Is that a fucking rocket-" I'm unsure of who that was, but it was too late for them.

Now I could feel the vibration as the enemy pushed through the hole in what was believed to be an impenetrable wall...or at least, impenetrable to a few anarchist rebels who were as few as they were disorganized.

I stood up, removing my headset and grabbing my helmet from the end of the desk. Sliding it on, the familiar reduced field of view and dark, tinted sight became mine once again. I had been called paranoid to sit through my shifts in full combat armor from my stint as a patrol officer myself, after I stopped the traffic deal a few years ago. I knew, deep down, I would need it one day, and that day was today.

Bending down, I removed the P90 from beneath my desk. Again, others called me a lunatic, claiming the Wall to have no weaknesses, and that the auto-defense system was more than adequate to halt any intruders.

Well, any Wall will eventually fall, and any system will eventually fail. Good thing I came prepared.

Slotting a 50-round magazine into the top of the small weapon, I crossed to the corner of the room and stood behind the door to the sold entrance to the communications center.

Just a few months ago, this room was a hive of activity, a dozen comm officers tracking more than 75 personnel as they patrolled this portion of the wall, the Mini Wall, so called because on the outer portion, some buildings directly next to the Wall itself were taller than the Wall. This made it a hotspot for daredevil Marauders to jump off with makeshift parachutes to attempt to fly into New Tokyo and perhaps raid a few shops, kill a few people, before the authorities caught wind of it and immediately eliminated the criminal.

Now, I was the sole comm officer on this shift, and a total of 3 people worked this room at any time. One per 8-hour shift, and sometimes the night officer took 4-hour breaks.

Ever since it had begun to calm down, the Wall has lost most of its' internal defense force, reduced to a few squads for the entire 90km wall. Of course, this wasn't supposed to hap-.

"In here, this is the comms room!" So someone actually knew the layout of the massive structure. That did not bode well for us, at all. Someone was working on the inside. Possibly several someones.

Into the sterile light of the room came four figures, each unique. The man in front was of a muscular physique, carrying a revolver and wearing a yellow bandanna across his mouth, like Bandits of old.

Next came a girl who looked like Yutaka, if Yutaka had become a female version of the Punisher..., she was carrying a shotgun with a large drum magazine, and had...salmon hair in a single ponytail trailing half-way down her back. I could see A pistol in a holster on her thigh, and her armor was tinted an odd purple color.

Third to enter was the one that really made me worried. He was huge, and had long black hair. He was carrying a light machine gun, ammo belts crisscrossing his chest.

Last to come in was a man that made me think twice about moving from my position. Target 9.

In the past few years, only a few of the rampaging youth had stood out enough to be identified and marked as specific targets.

This boy...man, really, was one of them.

Nineteen years old as of August 2015, Target 9 didn't appear to be much. Thin, wiry, short brown hair, pale electric blue eyes. Carried a couple rifles at all times, right now holding some sort of wooden carbine, a large sniper rifle affixed to his back, and matching pistols in holsters on his belt.

The reason this man was so dangerous was simply because he always lived through confrontations.

This was the guy that strafed mortar fire after commencing the Christmas Crisis. This was the guy who had killed half a dozen officers whilst completely unarmed in order to escape custody mere weeks before the Wall was finished. This was the sole sniper who had been killing any construction worker who dared near the wall, causing a 3-month project to become a 2-year project.

"Search that computer, put anything good on a drive, and make it quick." The muscular man moved to my terminal, the only one on, and began to type commands into the keyboard faster than I could blink.

I brought my gun up to my head. All of them were distracted. I could still come out on top.

I swallowed, hearing it echo in my ears.

Everyone's heads' turned to my location. The heavy-set man's faced turned to an expression of shock, but I had already pulled the trigger.

The gun barely kicked as I dove out of my hiding spot as it was riddled with three different types of bullets, and the silence in the room suddenly became a cacophony too loud for human ears to handle.

The big guy was dead before I hit the ground, rolling behind a desk and firing blindly at the other three.

Unfortunately, I felt my ribs get kicked from the side, and I fell to the floor, my gun clattering underneath a desk.

"Well, lookie here Ty, a trooper no one told us about. I thought those girls had the best intel there is." He was pointing his gun at my head.

"C'mon, get up, I'm not going to kill you. I never liked that guy anyways." The girl laughed as she was relieving the corpse of its' valuables. Quite the cheery bunch, I must say.

As I got up, he shoved me into a table, grabbing my hands behind my back with just one of his hands, his rifle now jabbing into the back of my neck, but not terribly painfully. Damn, he's good.

"Now, take the helmet off. One hand only, take it slow. We don't any more dead people in this room." He moved his thumb slightly, allowing my right hand to reach up and pull my helmet off.

He looked at me once, and started cracking up. Just straight, utter laughter. The girl kept her gun on me as he moved away, slamming his bony fist onto my desk, all the while shaking with dry laughter.

Finally, he was calm enough to wipe a tear from his eye, and returned to me, but was snickering even as he did so.

"Holy shit, no wonder the intel didn't mention this one...alright, this one lives you guys. Kimi, give her a KO pill and throw her in the corner, we've got bigger octopus to fish." The guy backed away, his rifle on my head like clockwork, even as the girl came forth with a purple pill...the same purple as her amor. Ah, hell.

First they're attacking, then they're organized, then Target 9 shows up, I don't die, and NOW I'm getting drugged by a girl who looks just so _freaking _similar to Yutaka...I wonder how she's doing? I haven't seen her in almost a year...she might even be...no, don't think like that. She must be fine. She has to be.

Line Break:

Even as her head fell forward as the drug took effect, I couldn't help but feel like my heart was being torn out.

Nee-san. I just drugged Nee-san. She...she was working in the Wall!

It feels like just yesterday that I was taken from Nee-san, after she had hid me for so long from the authorities, and sent to the Old city, to live with the youth that had began revolting against the government...

I found Oni-chan and her friends though, so it wasn't that bad. I made a few friends myself, and had ultimately gotten caught up in this group when the police in the New city killed a group of my friends while we were walking down the street. I was saved when Onii-chan came up behind them with a gun and...killed them. But, I guess, in that case, they were in the wrong, and she saved me.

"Did she recognize you?" My squad leader shook me free from my thoughts. He was tall and thin, and I hadn't yet caught his name. Aki...something. Akira maybe? Or was that the other sniper...

"I don't think so...I've grown a lot in the past year, and I'm wearing my hair differently, so she might not have."

He laughed again, before walking out of the room.

"Well that's good, fighting family sucks. But unlike her, you can be merciful." He was right, unfortunately.

Ty walked out with what we needed, and I picked up the rear, weighed down by the ammo belts that now hung from my shoulders' instead of Honda's chest; he had been the meat shield, and had played his part well. May warrior's fortune bring him peace.

Taking the same route we had to gain access to the comm room, it was clear some intense fighting was going on down below, and outside. The superstructure was cracked in some places, which was no small feat for a 5 meter thick wall on both sides. I had to help prepare a lot of the younger members for this blitz-like attack, and I was surprised at the hardware we had amassed from various sources.

A 13-year old named Gin was set to stay in the back with a surface-to-air missile launcher, capable of taking down slow moving aerial vehicles, like VTOLs and helicopters. The launcher itself was of American make, as was much of our supplies. Akira had mentioned at one point that the Americans were secretly funding them. something about falling out with the government or something.

Some of the weapons were NATO weaponry, most likely stolen from the government, but this was much rarer, as Japan had been ejected from the UN once the Wall was constructed.

We crept closer to the door, and cautiously stepped outside into the battlefield, slightly awed at the progress we had been making.

During the briefing in an abandoned subway tunnel turned command center, our leaders had outlined the course of attack to be "as much of a push into the city as possible, until our losses become too great."

We were almost a hundred meters into New Tokyo, toppling buildings and firing on anyone who wasn't one of us, and the Marauder war machine didn't look to be stopping anytime soon.

"Come on, to the rooftops!" Akira was running to a building that had mysteriously been left standing, surrounded by piles of debris that may have been buildings recently.

I followed as best as I could, just trying to take in the sights and sounds of a true Marauder attack. As night slowly fell, the flashes of tracer rounds became apparent, and the rumbles of heavy gunfire and explosions punctuated the air every few seconds. The air was thick with the screams of trapped animals...which were all that civilians were, really. The ground was pitted with pockmarks from bullets and shrapnel, and the slight wind caught my hair as I ran into the building.

It was dark inside, the only light coming from Ty's flashlight on his pistol. We rushed up a few flights of stairs, coming out on the roof, where Akira was already setting up the rifle on his back, and where we had a clean view of the terror we had wrought.

The whole width of this district was being swept up in the chaos, the main force accented by the heavily armored truck in the forefront, being constantly resupplied by those behind it. Our forces were fanning out in all directions, gunning down civilians as they saw them, and looting what they could from the buildings left in the wake of destruction.

The -whoop-whoop- of a helicopter was heard overhead, as something attempted to cross the airspace above what must have been making the news everywhere. Or, knowing the oppressive government, maybe it wasn't.

Either way, a -WHUFF- came from the ground as a missile flew straight up, past the helicopter, whose pilot had attempted to steer away from the object, but failed as the explosive device came down and detonated against the vehicle, causing it to plummet and crash into a building the warpath had not yet been brought into contact with.

The blare of emergency sirens all over the city were still covered by the sounds of gunshots and explosions, and now, the loud shockwave as Akira fired his own rifle into the crowd ahead of the path of death being sown into the city.

Even though it took awhile to get used to this, I have got to say: it's glorious. I'm not quite sure what we're fighting for, but if this is any indication, freedom fighters for a just cause, then it's worth it...I just need to make sure Nee-san doesn't get hurt.

Line Break:

The soundproofing in the cab did little to help when the top was open the whole time, a certain girl's feet stepping on the turn pedals constantly as she laid down a deadly stream of bullets into anything that was ahead of the wheeled monster. The sounds of bullets pinging off the chassis occurred dozens of times a second, and the windshield was nothing but a tiny window reinforced with several layers of blast-resistant glass.

Fuck, it wasn't supposed to be like this...but I bet it could get worse, too. I looked to the other occupant in the cab, who was holding a flashlight while writing on a pad of paper as she calculated complex math problems, which she reported the answers into a radio mounted on the dashboard.

"Unit Seven, change your firing trajectory 6 degrees west and 3.5 degrees north to compensate for wind speed and enemy movement. Unit Eight, keep your firing pattern."

She sighed, her matted, dirty, pink hair shuddering under the beret she wore to mark her rank in the group: Head Tactician.

She looked sideways at me, the darkness denying me from reading her face.

"You know, this isn't what I meant by leading the right path, but I'll deal with it...for now."

**A/N: What do you think? If you think this was a bit rushed, this is like the 4th revision of it. The first version was WAY too dull, the 2nd and 3rd were okay but lacked the sense of "oh shi-" that I want to keep going, and this one was actually good. Only 2 named OC's who aren't cannon fodder, which is pretty okay considering my track record.**

**Next chapter: You'll have to wait and see, but I assure you it is awesome.**


	2. II

Calamity +1

II

**A/N: Alright, y'all seemed to enjoy it a lot, despite my deviances from my normal formula, so that's good. Hope you enjoy! Leave a review, too, if that strikes your potato. It makes my mind dispose of all of the bad ideas faster. Ideas like WWE vs. Star Wars vs. 2001: A Space Odyssey. Who knows, it could happen.**

**New line break style, too. **

"...and there...aaaand there." The thin black steel rod tapped on areas of the hand-drawn map that was now hanging from the wall of the tunnel, illuminated by portable work-lamps abandoned years before. The map depicted a top-down version of the Wall and the area surrounding it, highlighting one particular section that looked no different from any other at a passing glance.

"The difficult part of the operation will be in getting all four detpacks in a close enough proximity to the Wall itself to punch a sizable hole through it. This section is thinner than the others, at only 10 meters wide, with only 2 meters of actual solid steel, and the ZPU can potentially ram through a space smaller than optimal, as long as an actual puncture is made in the structure itself.

To counteract the suspicion of the enemy forces patrolling the wall, all of you, barring one Tech Squad, will be wearing civilian gear on their extremities, with standard-issue armor on the chest and legs. The Scavengers have procured dozens of black shawls, which will be used to cover each of us, and conceal the weaponry each of you will be possessing. Those whose weapons may stick out of their coverings, such as those who will be using FGM148's. will be in the rear of the group, the sheer numbers hopefully disguising the larger weapons.

Other than that, once you're through the wall, try not to die immediately. There is only one ZPU, which is the command unit, but we still aim to take the entire district. Keep your head low and your sights high."

The pink-haired girl bowed as she finished her explanation to the crowd that was amassed in the tunnel, before handing off her pointer to the girl standing off to the side, looking bored.

"Thank you Wisp, the plan is quite impeccable." Her gaze turned to all of us, and I felt my skin tingle. Warrior, the leader of the resistance. Of course, officially, she was still surpassed by Weeper, but as this was primarily a militant movement, she had the final say.

As a member of the command, the higher ups adopted new names, both to be known internally, and to keep the enemy from guessing who was who. Many of us had done so as well, shedding the names our previous life had given us in favor of names that defined us, just as we had shed our old lives, leaving them in the dust of a slowly crumbling society.

It was funny, really. If Warrior had told me a few years ago that I would be at the head of a squad of freedom fighters, and that our little resistance movement borne from an almost maniacal devotion to a girl whom we had never met, or heard of until after her death, I would have advised her to go get some air holes drilled into her skull, because some pressure definitely needed to be relieved.

But here we are, about to launch a full-scale attack on the enemy, and feeling on top of the world. They're unaware, they think we've fallen back. But today will rip such a gaping hole in them that hopefully, they will never recover.

It makes me wonder, though. Even if we do succeed, what happens after that? What kind of society will it be? Will it be truly better than what we already lived under? Or will we become the very tyrants we were striving so hard to eliminate?

Time holds all answers, and soon enough, we may have those same answers.

If we live long enough, that is.

/ public void LineBreak();

/int globalx: temp, notworld;

I wasn't aware I was still self-aware. I had been in silent, deep, white light for what may have well been several eternities. I had not had a single thought since I arrived here. I had only existed, stagnant as ever.

But I slowly became aware of a presence. Small, writhing, black. It was almost like a baby that had been left behind, if babies lacked a physical form and instead were composed of ethereal tentacles that bended the concept of reality in their very existence.

Upon noticing, or rather feeling this shape, I was aware that I could speak.

"What are you?" My own voice, which I could hear, sounded as much as it did on the day I left the world of the living. Shrill, callous, demeaning, and most importantly, insane.

I had all of my thoughts about me, and could even see what had happened after I was killed. It was something far greater than what I expected. I did not simply spark a small smattering of youths to revolt against their elders, no; I had planted the seeds of a full-fledged, armed revolution! Whose components worshipped me, not as a founder, or creator, but as a _god_.

Even in death, I was still superior! It was a heartwarming feeling, despite lacking a heart, and through this omnipresent knowledge I was slowly developing, I could even sense individual, familiar presences in the emotional mass that was their movement.

Konata, which was to be expected...apparently she had gotten over her qualms about killing the weak...excellent.  
Miyuki, I did not expect...though, it appears she has only killed once...but it wasn't as part of this movement? Curious, very curious.

Kuroi? This surprised me. She was showing the same emotional states as many of the revolutionaries, but she was firmly separated, physical distance-wise. A spy, perhaps? I would've expected the woman to have drank herself to death by now...so good on her, maybe.

Among everything, this dark mass showed me an image that I did not quite comprehend, at least, not yet. It was of a mask, with large eye holes and a mouth stitched shut, lacking a nose, but containing a streak of blood down the middle that ended in the smile of a cat.

Was Konata going to become a killer...even more so, anyways?

Alas, I do not know, and I am powerless to affect what I hath created from my location, outside of the physical plane of existence. I have planted the seeds, now it's time to watch them grow.

cinhate;

cindenial;

float otherhate-;

int rage;

cinrage;

Trying to breathe. Not doing well. Something...else...is taking up my air. It's attached to me, through the stomach. It's trying to steal my nutrients. It wants to kill me so it can live. Not if I can kill it first.

I felt my undeveloped hands scrape the edges of the prison we've been in for as long as I can remember. I dragged them closer to the parasite's head, kicking off the sides in order to turn myself to better face my foe.

I could tell it was a he, somehow. My eyes have not developed yet, and I do not understand the concept of sight, for our prison would be endlessly dark regardless, but I just know he is male.

Again, he pushes against my lifeline! I feel the constriction press against every atom in my body, causing me to wrap my arms around his head, and squeeze.

He began to thrash, and his grip loosened on my life-giving tube, allowing me to pull tighter. He spasmed for a while, then stopped. Just stopped. He never moved again, and after I was birthed, they found him, dead and underdeveloped, inside of mother's womb. They took a picture of the brother I was never meant to have, and dumped him into a chute, never to be seen again.

I killed another living, thinking being, before I ever left my mother. Does that make me a murderer?

/bool Killer;

/cinKiller;

/cout"Yes."endl;

"Whenever you're ready, just pull the trigger!" I was peering at what may have been the most morally conflicting situation I had ever encountered.

In front of me, tied to a wall in the outer reaches of the district, where a dozen men, all of them stripped of their clothing and possessions. Each of them were at least 30, and they had their backs to me, their bonds preventing them from turning to face me. Each of them were covered in deep lacerations across their backs, a result of whips being used to interrogate them.

They had been soldiers, captured while they had been wandering the subway system, the last unprotected link between the two Tokyo's. Our scouts had found them in the dark, while they had been attempting to sleep. Only one of them had been carrying a weapon, more to ward off whatever was in the subway, then to attack any of us.

Of course, that did not matter to anyone in charge. They were captured and tortured for information, which they had nothing useful. After 30 hours of whipping, chemical baths, and beatings, it had been decided they were no longer useful, and as they had been armed, it was my job to execute them personally. I disliked this part of being the leader. Well, actually, I kind of disliked everything about being the leader, but I wore a very convincing mask.

I had reached the point of no return, the point at which I need to delve into the deepest pits of Hell before I can step foot in the grassy meadows of the surface world again.

So I am now playing the two-faced game of enjoying it, because I am, deep down, and loathing it, because my brain is telling me that's my natural reaction to it, or at least, what it should be.

Unfortunately, sometimes, primal instinct take over.

This time, though, it hasn't.

"I'm going to speak to one of them." Hiro, the guard assigned to me when I was outside of the city proper, followed me up to the wall where the soldiers were breathing their final breaths. Hiro turned each of the men's restraints so they were looking at me, their private areas left exposed for all to see. Only one of them had not been emasculated.

I could see the fear in their eyes. The fear of death, of never seeing their families' again, of disgrace, but mostly of death.

One man, though, had no such look. His eyes were glazed over, his breathing slow and shallow, and his muscles had relaxed. Suddenly, his head rolled slowly to face my direction, before speaking in a monotone.

"You may break the man, but you can never break the country. For every man that falls for your cause, 5 more will stand up to fight for their fallen friend. For every man that falls for our country, 100 more will rise to the same occasion."

This man sounded like he truly believed what he was saying. Unfortunately, I presented him with the facts in a quiet voice, placing a hand on his chest as I did so. I felt his pulse quicken, but his face still remained dead to the world.

"We will outweigh superior recruitment on your side with superior numbers on our side. Seeing as you have been sentenced to death, it doesn't hurt to tell you things that would be considered secrets of our organization.

We have been taking aid from other countries, which I have no doubt that you are aware, but no one we take aid from is aware of our sheer numbers. I have a digital ledger that contains text files of every name of every member in our group. In a plain text format, the ledger is nearly 4 gigabytes in size.

We are over fifteen _million _strong. No matter what, we will always have more fighters willing and ready to swing at our oppressors; mainly, the military. Even if you forcibly drafted every able-bodied person in the country, you would be down on supplies and housing.

By separating us and giving us a place to live, the government has already sealed their fates."

I'm actually rather incensed by my own words, and the man finally took in a surprised gasp when I listed how numerous we really were.

I backed up to the firing line, drawing my pistol. The gun I only used to kill those who had been voted to die. Those who have seen it and are aware of its' existence call it the Judgement Gun.

Due to how I actually received the handgun, I refer to it as Uncle Sam . Pulling the slide back with a grunt, the .50 AE caliber round was chambered. 7 rounds, 7 targets. At this range, it was nigh-impossible to miss.

I chose a man in the middle first. I let myself have some guilty pleasures while I probably shouldn't, but I did it anyways.

Aiming right at him, I slowly closed the trigger, even as he squirmed and attempted to break free of the locks and restraints pinning him to the wall.

The gun's recoil was substantial, pushing me back a few steps, but I never blinked, watching the man's head develop a hole through the upper skull, before falling limp against the wall behind him.

Now that our position was known, and we were never sure if an enemy was in the area, I finished my task quickly, feeling no remorse for the men that had been doomed to death since the day of their births, like everyone else.

I try, I really do. I can shut out most of, but not all of the death, the suffering, and the madness. But eventually, it'll all catch up to me. I just know it. And when it does, I have to hope that I will be in no position to hurt anyone, because I've done enough of that already.

"Alright, let's head back." We left the bodies on the ground, after retrieving the handcuffs and locks that had been mounted to the walls. Scavengers and small animals would dispose of the remains for us.

Climbing into the sidecar of Hiro's motorcycle, I couldn't help but look at the body of the glazed-eye man. His face was locked in a mocking smile. It unnerved me. If he wanted to be dead, then a soldier was a good place for him. An 'unarmed' scouting party just didn't make any sense. What were they planning?

Maybe it's best not to think into it too much...

As we pulled into the empty streets, it began to snow.

Only two weeks until Christmas. I wonder if anyone even celebrates it around here any more? Maybe just to keep the children happy...or maybe not, maybe everyone is afraid their children will turn into us.

Either way, it will happen. No use in only prolonging the inevitable. It's foolish, and ultimately makes that knife in the back only that much more painful.

/cout"What kind of life is there that does not lead to death?"endl;

/cout"What makes you say death is the end of life?"endl;

/cinrealization;  
/cout"To say that each is not an opposite is the speech of a sinner."endl;

/cout"If we didn't need your hypocritical ass alive, I would have pinned you to the wall and let you bleed out while forcing you to go down on Minoru."endl;

/cout"As you wish. Sinner."endl;

/cindismemberment;

**A/N: So? What did you think? So many flashbacks, so little time. I haven't even gotten to all of the fun characters yet! I hope someone gets the style of my line breaks, and I'm definitely keeping them from here on in. Thanks for reading, and expect the next chapter within...whenever I get around to it...just kidding, 4-5 days maybe. **


	3. III

Calamity +1

III

**A/N: Yeah, no chapter titles any more. I felt they were just sounding stupid, and of times the chapter ended up being made around a witty chapter title or vice versa. Here's some more crazy for you, right on time, served piping hot at exactly 26:00. IN POTATO STANDARD TIME.  
**

"...Breaking News: The north Wall has been breached by the anarchists, and they are wreaking havoc in the streets. They are heavily armed and continued their butchering of innocent people, in their ultimate goal to kill anyone who is not a follower of their-"

Fucking news. Though, at this point, it's more propaganda than news...okay, it's been that way for years, but that doesn't stop me from being dissatisfied about it.

Looking out the window, I could see the black clouds of smoke and the red licks of fire still rising from the other side of the city, bright against the night sky.

They did good tonight. Well, as good as they could, given the circumstances. The government has an iron fist on the media now, though, so they'll only be demonized that much more and called "demons, monsters, villains", among other things, which only a few of them could be considered that. Okay, more than a few, but not everyone was like that.

I got up from the couch, stretching, feeling some bones in my back crack, releasing some stress that had nothing to due with the workload today. Fuck, I'm getting old. Thirty two and still single, and feeding information to a group that's trying to mount everyone my age on a mantlepiece and call it Sally.

Of course, those up top on the other side know me, so I'm safe.

Thinking about it was never advised, because, while it didn't give me a nasty feeling of guilt, it might be worse that I _don't _feel that pang of guilt every time I send a message to her phone, containing an encrypted message with anything interesting that went on...

After all of the school-age students got the steel-spiked kick out of the city, universities became the new high school, and being a victim of the original Ryoo massacre, I was secured a job as a history professor at the converted Ryoo Memorial Building, a subsidiary of a larger school built on the grounds of the old high school. They paid well, if only to save face about buying up the old building.

Some interesting information gets thrown around when you actually listen. There's a lot of support for the rebels in this particular age group, but a lot of hatred, as well. People whose younger siblings dropped off the face of the planet, only to come back home one night and attempt to brain them with a rusty pipe, stuff like that. There were some stories that weren't exactly fun to listen to, but at the same time it made me wonder why more of these kids didn't just join up to save themselves.

The odds are against the government, that much sis for sure. I didn't know it for a while, but their little movement has been slowly steamrolling in strength, and now, it might even be able to go head-to-head with the authorities...and win.

The problem with fighting the kids, as the police and military are going to discover, is that they are too erratic. One minute, there will be nothing in sight, and the only people around will be innocent people living their lives day by day, and the next, the street will be filled with murderous teenagers brandishing guns at you. They were coordinated, and their sheer numbers would allow them to triumph...eventually. Much like the Russians in World War II, their numbers were so large in comparison to their enemies', that with enough time and bloodshed, they would be able to quell even the toughest foes. Another way they bear resemblance to the Ruskies is that they're so utterly devoted to the cause, that there's no doubt in the numbers of fighters they have. No one is wavering. Everyone is trying to crush the city, and in the process rip out the heart of the nation.

It was a rather ingenious plan, even if it was accidental in its' creation, and executed in the roughest way possible.

I walked into my bedroom, still looking out of the window, when something exploded on the horizon, sending a plume of smoke rising into the air, and making the night sky just a tad brighter.

I closed the shades, not wanting to think about what was happening out there.

Sitting down on my bed, I leaned over to my bedside table, grabbing my old cell phone. Powering it on, I created a new text, adding "JKorKona" to the field.

I typed a short message and sent it off; it read "The tubes are alive with trash; you're gonna need a big shovel to clean it up."

protected override Predictions()

{

int32 population=1900000;

int32 x = believers-3000000;

int32 Deathtoll= population-x;

}

Gazing down into the streets, I spotted my target from upwards of a kilometer away. A construction crew was making their way towards the "secret" location where they were set to start erecting the first real, physical sign of the wretched government's devolution into a police state. Though, how secret was a dozen cranes that towered above the skylines, and no less than two dozen police vehicles surrounding the convoy of two pickup trucks full of equipment?

Of course, they were expecting another bombing like my team pulled out of their asses last week. The whole time it happened, and afterwards, I was up here, watching. Watching them scrape their fellow workers off the street after they spilled a fair share of their entrails into the road.

No, a sniper was the last thing they were expecting. Hell, even I wasn't expecting to have something like this to use.

All of a sudden, on a visit to the meeting place we had decided a few months ago, we started receiving regular shipments of weapons. Big weapons. Not just some pistols stolen from a Yakuza warehouse; brand new, pristine, heavy weapons. From the first crate that arrived in our little command center I pulled the rifle I was using currently; well, actually, we needed 3 guys to lift it out, but that's not the point. We're still not sure what the hell kind of gun it is, but we've got ammo for it that's 21cm long. I mean, this thing is meant for blowing holes in tanks or some shit, and here I am on a rooftop about to pop some heads with it.

It's just amazing to think about.

Adjusting the bipod on the rifle forward, I looked down the 10x scope again, seeing the convoy had stopped in front of the construction site. They were about 400m down the street, but I was on the top floor of a 5-story building, firing out of a window, giving me a nice vantage point, and the black rifle blended in nicely with the rest of the building. They were starting to get out of the vehicles and getting their tools...but they were too spread out. I waited.

After a few minutes, as luck would have it, they began to line up for me. A police officer was giving them combat vests. A little too late for that.

I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. I jerked back, looking over the rifles' 2 meter length, and quickly realized my mistake: I had not chambered the first, massive round.

Rectifying my mistake, I looked through the scope once again. They were still in line, but one guy had moved. Close enough.

I aimed right at their neck, the drop on the rifle being near zero millimeters at this range and height, and pulled the trigger.

It pushed me back along the roof as it sent out a sonic boom that was unlike anything I had ever heard. I heard some glass shatter and a distinct 'whuff' sound, and looked down the sight as the rifle settled.

Shit, this thing was a monster. Not only were the workers dead, their bodies were basically ripped to shreds, and the windows of the nearby police cruisers and heavy transports were shattered, and the concrete was riddled with shrapnel. The police were going nuts, looking for the source, and I quickly pulled the rifle into the building, keeping the window open, not wanting to change the silhouette in the window.

They set off in the opposite direction down the street, and once I checked that the site was empty through a pair of binoculars, I closed the window and turned to my partner, who was lounging on the desk behind me.

She got off the table she was sitting on, still holding a knife to the throat of the man whose office we were "using".

"Alright, lets go." She pulled the knife away from the man, but while he was focused on her, I clubbed him over the head with the magazine I had pulled out of the rifle. He fell to the desk with a thump, and she came over to me as I began to disassemble the rifle.

"...We should remove the threat..." Her soft voice came from directly behind me, and as I separated the trigger group from the rest of the barrel, I turned, as she lifted the man's head by his long, black hair, holding her stiletto to his jugular.

I stood still for a few seconds, contemplating, before shrugging as I placed the pieces of the rifle in separate duffel bags.

"Do whatever you want, it doesn't really matter." With that, I heard the 'shhh' of the knife cutting open the man's throat, and heard a thump as he was dropped to the desk.

She grabbed the first bag as soon as I shut it, slinging it onto her shoulder. I turned to look at her, grey eyes meeting aquamarine. She blinked, folding the thin knife back into itself, before stuffing it in her dress shirt.

We were dressed formally, having come into the building under the guise of having an appointment with the man who was now bleeding out all over his own desk, his heart slowly emptying his body of the thick essence of life.

"...We must leave now...the authorities shall be searching for the culprits...and may come this way." She started to head for the door, only showing slight physical stress at carrying the heavier of the two bags. I _was _going to give her the lighter one, but she was already out the door of the small office.

In the elevator, the silence was so thick that I could've sliced it with the girl's knife. Of everyone that could have been with me on this little trip, I chose her, not because she had the looks of someone important, but because she knew how to get the job done. Her real name was unknown to our group, but she called herself Jungle. A fitting name, if you ask me. Her hair was mint green, and she was as ruthless as any tribal hunter could be.

That was pretty important, considering what our mission was: to hinder, and hopefully stop, the construction of this "Wall" that would split the city in half. The authorities were getting serious, but we were doing the same. It's going to be a war of attrition, that much is for sure.

public void Planning()

{

int Random= new Rand;

double chance_success = 100%Random;

}

**A/N: Short chapter, I know, still jumping around with POV's, and saving one last character introduction for next chapter. The weapon the character describes is the Steyr IWS-2000 AMR, which is more like a tank cannon in rifle form than anything else. Hope you enjoyed, and both positive and negative reviews are welcome. Next chapter can be expected in a week or so, but don't hold me to that; I'm very busy as of right now.**


	4. IV

Calamity +1

IV

**A/N: Alright, let's get to it! The last characters being introduced, coming back to the present, and the stakes are getting higher. Hope you enjoy the chapter, and make sure to review with any complaints or concerns you may have.**

"Sir, there are civilians still in the area!" Their words rebounded off of me, making no difference in what I proceeded to do. Which was, of course, slot a grenade into the launcher and fire it into the air, the whizzing sound heard among the chaos until it impacted on _something _with a muffled explosion.

"So? They're going to die anyways, lets give them the benefit of not dying under duress of the enemy, shall we?" With that, I switched the fire selector on my rifle to full-auto and gunned down a column of those who were running towards us, fully hearing their screams as they dropped like dead weights to the ground. I dropped the empty magazine upon emptying it, reaching to my breast pocket for a fresh one, when my arm was caught, only momentarily, by the hand of one of my men.

"Captain...we can't. We're supposed to be protecting the innocent, not killing them." I turned my head slowly to look the man in the eyes, and upon making eye contact with me, he recoiled, whether in fear or disgust, it did not matter. He backed up, hitting the wall of the alley, and I advanced on him, flaring my nostrils as I did so.

I spoke slowly, just to make sure that he caught every word.

"Do you really think that the government and the armed forces are really some benevolent force that seeks only to protect their own? No. Today's events have nothing to do with keeping those who inhabit the area safe; the portion of the Wall that was breached contains some _very _important data, data that could cripple our defenses if those monsters get ahold of it. Civilians are not exempt to either side, and if they're in the way, I will _not _hesitate to gun them down like the cattle that they are. If any of you hesitate to do the same, I will shoot you in the back like the cowards you are. Get me?" The man was in tears by now, and he was stuttering his apologies, but it didn't matter. I hit him in the head with my rifle for showing such disrespect, before turning back to my squad.

They were supposed to be the best of the best, but tonight, they were proving to be a bunch of whiny fuckers whose sense of morality was getting in the way of our mission: to disrupt the enemy attack, and possibly take out some of those who were in charge of said attack.

We couldn't just send in a gunship to strafe the area and grind the masterminds into a thin red paste; the grimy fuckers' have managed to get their ugly hands on anti-aircraft weaponry, and brought down two news birds who were trying to get a closer look.

Tanks were out of the question as well; it would take several hours for them to travel from the nearest military base, and airdropping them in posed the same problems as the first method.

As such, the only option left was getting us to do the dirty work for them. By them, I mean the police. Sure, they could keep things calm in the areas still 'in' Tokyo, but they were fucking useless when trying to control the demons that coiled around the city, all but strangling it.

So here I am, working with a bunch of sorry fucks who are against doing things efficiently, so we're trodding through alleys with GPS indicators, trying to find a way to get close enough to that armored truck to shove a fucking grenade in it.

Turning the corner, I immediately stepped back into cover, letting the gunfire spray past me and impact on the opposite wall. I stepped out again, focusing on the three kids with assault rifles down the way, half-shrouded in the darkness...or rather, they would've been if I wasn't wearing night vision goggles.

I lit them up, two shots for each of them, both in the head. They keeled over without any resistance, and I checked the bodies for anything useful.

Fuck, the guns they were using were practically brand new. NATO standard-issue too... the whole world is against us now. It still amazes me that these idiots with a common rallying point could get the shit-spewing United States of America to supply them weapons. Sure, it was probably just an act of revenge to do so, but it was costing someone a lot of money to ship over brand new guns for a bunch of kids to shoot up the country with.

Alright, now that the pansy fest is coming up to me now, including Mr. Morality himself, we set off, myself on point, of course; none of these bastards knew what the wrong end of a gun looked like, nevermind how to stop you from dying to one.

As night fell, the sounds of destruction, mainly explosions and screaming, didn't get any dimmer. In fact, as we snuck our way closer to the main advance, they became louder, telling anyone who didn't already know that somebitches are dropping dead.

On a whim, I directed us into an apartment building through the shambles of a wall, and took the stairs to the roof, before leaning over the side to see if we were close to the target, as it sure as hell sounded like it. The constant wailing of the machine gun had stopped, presumably to load up on more ammo, and when it resumed, the truck pulled onto the street this building was situated on.

I looked to the men, who immediately busied themselves with anything and anything, besides looking at me.

As they prepared the weapons system that was going to be used on the truck that _probably _contained the figureheads of this whole fiasco, I reminisced a bit about how this all happened.

I remember waking up in the hospital next to a friend who couldn't remember why the hell she was there, and no amount of telling her would convince her that she was just one of hundreds of targets in the Ryoo Massacre. Worse yet, when she asked why I was there, I couldn't give her an answer. She was doomed to innocence, to forget the horrors she had witnessed. I was jealous.

I would live with the knowledge and the feeling of being dragged like a prize through the halls of that fucking place, before my own sister raped me. I know that it was my fault, and I tried to dedicate myself to stopping shit like that from happening ever again...once I could walk again, but never you mind that.

Upon hearing that somehow, her actions had started a cult of anarchists, I did the only thing I could do to help stop it. I joined the military. I felt that I would have the power to stop them if I joined the forces of our nation that were dedicated to keeping our interests intact. Of course, while going through basic training, deployment to a base in Okinawa, and throughout my reevaluation, merger with the JSF, and finally deployment on the Tokyo base, I wasn't able to hear any current news about the cult, other than "the crazies killed another couple today" or "those anarchists are getting pretty dangerous".

But when the Wall was finished, it started to get pretty apparent that this wasn't going to be anything like putting down a wave of protesters. They were full-blown insurgents; hell, they were better armed than most rebel forces, and for that matter, most Asian and African militaries, barring China, of course.

We were on a constant vigil, always waiting for the one thing that would call us into action, and during that time, I trained. And I trained. And then I trained some more. I could field strip, clean, and reassemble the rifles we were issued in less than a minute. I scored near-perfect accuracy on simulations...but that was on every target, friendly or otherwise.

I know it as well as the doctors do, I'm a hollow fucking shell. I don't really see people as people any more...everyone is capable of cruelty, of murder, of torture, rape, indiscriminate murder, and did I mention murder? My own sister was capable, so everyone else sure as fuck is too. And if it means getting one step closer to the fuckers that warp my sister into some kind of Satanic entity worthy of worship for death and evil acts, than I'll mow down every single one of the people in the whole _fucking _city.

I'll have my revenge. I swear it.

"It's ready, sir!" Taking me back to reality, I noticed three things. One being the completed anti-vehicle weapon sitting on the roof. Two being the location of the armored truck, which was not in sight. Three, and most importantly, I noticed a figure on an opposite rooftop standing among the shadows and aiming a circular tube at us. Doing the natural thing, I sprang out of the way, behind the cover of the stairwell, just as the figure fired, sending a rocket straight at the squad.

The explosion collapsed that section of the roof, and sent the AV weapon tumbling off of the building, where it no doubt was smashed to piece by the long drop to the ground. The incompetent group with me was reduced to itty-bitty travel-size pieces. The blast made me deaf for a few seconds, and still crouching in cover, I heard a voice talking as my hearing returned.

"The squad we were tracking came up to a rooftop near where the A.K. squad is providing support. I took them out with an RPG...yessir, just give me the word." Peeking out of cover, I could see the figure across the way. The truck was now moving down the road, but without that launcher, I couldn't do shit. Well, I could still kill the guy over there, avenge Mr. Morality...or not.

I popped out of cover, firing at the guy who was standing near the edge, looking at the sky. The sub-sonic rounds made little noise, ripping through him with ease; as he fell, I could almost see that look of surprise frozen to his face. His body landed with that sickening crunch of bones impacting on themselves and making a nice bone-marrow sandwich.

I took stock of the situation: I was on my own, on the edge of both friendly and enemy lines, the target was _right there_, and I had nothing to attack them with... except for rifle grenades.

I got down to the ground, searching among the tattered pieces of equipment still on the rooftop, before my hand closed around the one thing that would be of any help. The circular shape of a 40mm grenade. Getting into a kneeling position, I shoved the round into my rifle, closing the launcher with the heel of my palm, hefting the gun back to my chest.

Standing up, I rushed to the destroyed side of the building, seeing the truck almost directly below me, a figure in the gun turret, firing indiscriminately into the crowd at the end of the street. In the monochrome colors of the night vision, I couldn't make out who the gunner was, but through radio reports of brown hair and female, it was either Warrior, Gilgamesh, or Sesevenen. They must think they're cool, with their code names, being all mysterious and shit...it's probably more to hide their shame than anything else. I sure as hell would if I were them.

for (int kills; kills1000000; kills++)

{

();

();

}

The hours were slowing grinding together, the drone of Miyuki's voice constant, and my only job was to keep us rolling forward, and to call out any threats I saw.

The explosion rocking the ground in front of us was a great way to jar me out of my sub-slumber, and the sound of Warrior dropping the hatch and falling into the cab as bullets pinged off the patch informed me that, sleepily, we were being attacked.

I jammed on the gas pedal, sending us speeding down the road. It was a bumpy ride as we hit the masses of people who still hadn't ran away, or couldn't due to the caged position they were in, but it didn't matter; the large vehicle smashed through and crushed those in the way. I heard Miyuki berate me vaguely, but I kept going and pulled the wheel to the right, skidding around the corner, the tires slick with what had to be blood, and as we went down the road, we came back to our forces.

I stomped on the brakes, sending us forward against our harnesses, and in Warrior's case, flying into the bench seat we were sitting on. I waited for a second, and hearing nothing, I climbed up to the hatch, opening it just an inch to see what was going on.

It was now night, but this was largely offset by trash-can fires started on most street corners and tracer fire still lighting up the sky as stray rounds whizzed off.

It was just a tad bit cold, but not enough to need any more garments than what I was already wearing; the old Ryoo High uniforms were quite the comfortable clothes for murder...I mean...yeah...

I climbed down from the hatch back to my seat, even as the other two were stunned with what had just happened.

I looked at Warrior.

"What? You got shot at, we got away. Whoever it was is probably dead by now anyways." The insane brunette just nodded her head unsteadily, while Miyuki just sighed and returned to her radio, still calling in changes to the mortar crews that had taken up concealed positions on rooftops, and coordinating troop movements, now that the police were mounting what could be called a counter-offensive, but there was nothing of strategic value to take back; just the flaming husks of buildings, corpses, bombed-out apartments, and blood-stained streets. There were some places that Miyuki was now ordering people to lay down in the street and pretend to be corpses, only to rise up and gun down the enemy once they passed them by

A cunning tactic, to be sure, and one that would only sow more terror into the enemy, even after we fall back to the opposite side of the Wall...or at least, appear to. No more than 20% of our forces are even going that far; no, we're going into the tunnels that crisscross the entirety of the city. The sections leading across the Wall were closed off, but now that we were in, we could pop up anywhere we wanted to...after we mapped out routes, and learned which passages were guarded, of course.

No, they would soon learn that underestimating us will be their downfall.

Even now, they must be thinking that we lack in vehicles, or that we're still just a massive blitzkrieg with no real organization behind us.

Soon enough, they'll know. They'll know, and they will tremble in fear at the sight and sound of us. Hell, maybe some of them will even off themselves, rather than dealing with us. Yeah, that'd be nice...one less death I have to feel responsible for...

I'm one despicable person...even more so that I know I should feel terrible about what I'm doing, and I even did so at an earlier date, but now...now, it's just all overlapping into one never-ending nightmare.

I guess it is just a game to me. Shoot some enemies, play the bad guy, get bonus points for combos, beat the enemies, and maybe survive past the end? Who know...I know I don't.

**A/N: And there we have it! Now we're gonna be able to get into the really fun stuff. Hope you enjoyed it, and the evolving perspectives that come with it. **

**You know, Exit Trance is some great writing music...JUST saying.**


	5. V

Calamity +1

V

**A/N: Well, unfortunately, this took a bit longer than the last chapter, which I managed to get done and uploaded less than 5 hours after Chapter 3...now, though, I can't work on multiple chapters at once. Let's get down to business...the business of death, anyways. Death is cheap...Leave a review! It'd be much appreciated. **

"Sir, there's no foreseeable way to halt their advance! They've got the upper hand in the city..."

Running through the alleys to my exfil point, I internally cursed the stupidity of those who served below me. Well, good thing I had risen through the ranks quickly due to the sudden and mysterious deaths of all my competitors...

I adjusted my earpiece so the grunt could hear me through the continuing storm of chaos.

"Then we wait until they come out of the tight confines of the sub-districts. Tell all coastal batteries to change coordinates...the base of Tokyo Tower should be a good ambush point."

"But sir!...Yes, right away, sir."

Damn straight, no fucking lowlife corporal is going to talk back to me. Let these Raiders or Marauders or whatever the fuck they call them have their moment of glory...right before we crush them underneath the weight of 120mm artillery shells. Who cared if we lost half the city and a "cultural landmark"` in the process? At least we will win. Victory over all, or some shit. I really just want to curbstomp the fuckers who planned this whole thing. Maybe I'll keep them as pets...pets that I can torture and keep on the verge of death for as long as I want, just to make sure that they suffered as much as I had

Of course, if _she _is one of them, the game changes slightly. She deserves a fighting chance, right? That's a joke, if you didn't catch that. I will crush her face into the floor and grind it until her weeping skull stares at me with bleeding eyes as I burn everything she has ever loved. .

public void Life()

{

=true;

=true;

=true;

}

"Hey, Hiyori, we need to meet that deadline, yeah?" I looked up from inking the last few pages of a particularly...um...saucy, work, to look at the editor and former head of the newspaper club...though we were still doing the same thing, regardless.

"I'm almost done, just give me a couple minutes!" Inking in flesh tones was easy, so i could do it with only half a glance to the cels, while giving the older girl a little bit of a death glare.

"Alright, just make sure we get those out the door within the hour! The next printing run is going to start tomorrow, and I want our work the first off the line." Of course. A friend of her's ran a small print shop and did small jobs for cheap, meaning we could produce a few hundred copies of a doujin in short order, and distribute them just as quickly It was enjoyable enough, but tonight everyone was on edge.

The internet rumour mills are churning out all kinds of things about the rebels or whatever; they've broken through the wall, are killing civilians by the hundreds, and they have heavy weaponry.

But that would be crazy...I mean, when we stepped outside, we could hear the hustle and bustle of the waterfront district, but then again, the Wall was quite a ways away from us...maybe the city was just trying to drown it's own fears in on itself...

If she finds me...no, I'm not going to think about that. It's impossible for her to find me. It might be better if she found me and told everyone that I was a traitor...no, even worse, a coward, snake, a scared wolf in sheep's clothing...no.

That won't happen, because even if she made it all the way out here, she wouldn't have enough time to do that. I'd kill her first...yeah. One more person dead will make a difference, right?

public void LineBreak();

{

.println(" "); / an actual console application line break in C#, laughably enough.

}

"So, are you _sure _you don't know anything that could be of...hmmmm...use, to my comrades in arms?" The man's face was burned, maybe by the lighter in my hand, or maybe by the fact that we found him in a ventilation tunnel. It gets mighty hot down there. I'm not sure, though...I forget things sometimes.

"No, you crazy bitch! If you're going to kill me, just do it already! I'm not even part of the fucking police force or anything! I'm an exterminator!" His face was even redder now, and tears were slowly seeping out of his eyes; they could not flow freely, for his eyes were now swollen shut.

I laughed. To anyone else, it may have sounded dignified, crisp, and precise. But really, those are just the surface of the criminally insane. But now, that's not a crime. I was enjoying this oh so much.

"An exterminator...how interesting, I hold precisely the same position as you." With that, I ignited the lighter and pressed it against the man's chest, which was bare and raw from the whippings.

"AAAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!" The skin began to melt, and the flame turned the underlying muscle black, and as he bucked against the table he was cuffed to, he inadvertently sent the spark even deeper, no doubt hitting a nerve. His screams of pain were music to my ears, and I hummed a happy tune I had heard long ago as I held the small flame there for several seconds, removing it before it could get to anything extremely important.

The wound had partially cauterized itself from the heat, so the man wasn't going to die from blood loss. A shame, really; it would give me some spare time before I need to get back to the task at hand. Being a torturer was just something I did on the side. But with all of these civilians captured with our first attack, we had something to create some fearsome propaganda with. Normally, with anyone we captured, we would give them the chance to become a spy for us, if they were willing. Those who resisted us were usually beaten, and then asked again if the would defy us. If they do, they're lined up and shot.

But now, we're recording a "Best of", of sorts, with some extremely gruesome torture, and having an agent of ours deliver it to the media. The public would be steeped in an even greater amount of fear, and those who got in our way would most likely do what we wanted.

The fear of having your skin stripped off of you centimeter by centimeter did wonders to a person's ability to tell the truth. I loved doing that one, but this one is quite good fun as well.

Now was the time for the real main event. I stepped up to the table with two lengths of rope, and unlocked the man's hands first, which were limp from pain by this point, and tied his wrists together above his head. I then did the same with his feet, tying his ankles together. I then grabbed the rope tying his wrists together with one of my own and dragged him off the bloodied table, hearing his head bump on the edge.

I walked down the tunnel of holding cells, the man dragging along behind me. He was quite emaciated and very light, to the point that it was no trouble to walk while dragging him on the rough gravel. Listening to his whimpers as the small granules of gravel and dirt scraped against his bare legs and feet delighted me. But where were my manners? After all, this was a grand tour of our "facility".

This wasn't being recorded; this was just my own brand of fun before I ate his jugular, after I ripped it out with my teeth, of course.

"We just exited the prison wing of our facility, as you may have guessed. That includes the holding cells, the torture chambers, and the incinerators where we throw the corpses after we're done with them. That's reserved mostly for the inedible or unusable parts, though; skulls, spines, other odd-shaped stuff is usually thrown in there, along with the appendix; they taste like shit."

I pulled the guy along into an area where the floor was just concrete, and the man's whimpers died off. What a pussy. Anyways, the ceiling went up and out of sight, replaced by the inky black darkness above the areas lit up by emergency lighting still active in the city, along with lights that our members had stolen and spliced into the wire system.

"Here is our main tunnel. We're actually underneath the Wall itself, but the other end of the tunnel was sealed off by 5 meter thick slabs of concrete, and trying to blow through that would risk bringing the whole tunnel down on our heads."

As I dragged the prisoner by one of the guys who had started his toe collection, I heard a blood-curdling scream, and felt the load I was dragging get a bit lighter. Looking back, I saw that the guy had swung his meat cleaver down, severing the guy's left foot, had picked up said foot, and broke each toe off of it, before taking out a needle and beginning to string them together. He looked at me warily.

"Uhhh...sorry. I needed a few more toes for my necklace...he won't bleed out for a while, right?" Though he was much larger than myself, he definitely knew his place. Good thing too; I would hate having to butcher him. Well, I wouldn't hate it, but I would feel a little bit off about it.

I just shrugged, still dragging the guy along as he screamed and sobbed, but I responded only by holding his bindings higher, so maybe his stump would graze along the floor. It totally did, causing him to scream in a higher octave, and it was simply magical.

I brought him to a door that was locked by not one, not two, but four padlocks, fishing out the key from my left pocket, I carefully unlocked each one with only one hand, before opening the heavy door and dragging the still-screaming man inside, into the inky black darkness only accentuated by the light of candles and the sickly sweet smell of burning ozone. Well, I think it smells sweet anyways; most other people just call it the smell of burning ozone, but that's not very refined, now is it?

I hit the button to turn on the lights, revealing the room to be even larger than the previous one, and as I did so, several people on the floors below complained about the sudden light.

"This, you sniveling piece of shit, is our armory. Normally we organize it in the dark with the workers using night vision goggles, as the room itself is off-limits to our grunts, but since you're not one of our grunts, I can allow to gaze upon the beauty that is."

Of course, I was referring to the massive cavern that was not fully lit, showing off the most extensive collection of weapons and armaments that our group possessed. Which, I might like to add, is _extremely_ large, thanks to the stocks given to us over-the-table by the US Army, and under-the-table by some other countries, namely Germany, Russia, and France. Of course, that was all hush-hush, and we just told the troops that they were issued to that they were of American make, or that we stole them from one place or another.

The portion of the room that I enjoyed, though, was our vehicles. We had only used a single ZPU in our "full-out assault", but that was just part of the trickery that it takes to win a war.

We had dozens of identical armored trucks, having been delivered one at a time in a region outside of Tokyo, and driven to an unguarded subway tunnel entrance, at which point it was taken into the network we had found and renovated, taking them all the way here, to their current resting place, 20 meters below the ground, 40 meters from the Wall. Of course, we had done the same thing with our other vehicles, but we had to first widen _all _of our tunnels in order to get our "secret weapon" through and into our base itself. Thank you, Russia and its' affiliated countries. This thing was a monster, and truly, we were saving it until we had the enemy on the run, after they used up all of their tricks, their own cunning demolished, and the only thing left was people with guns.

_That _was when we would unleash the mechanical monstrosity that was such a harbinger of death upon them. Then, they would know their defeat was in sight.

A worker called up to me.

"Oy, you trying to give us all heart attacks? I thought I was going blind! I nearly dropped this box of M69's!" Oh dear, don't want another box of frag grenades rolling around again. We lost a couple of guys last week to that.

"My apologies, I'm simply showing this prisoner around before I kill him. Last rites, you know?"

The guy laughed, as did some of the others on the main floor. They knew my ways; this was perhaps the fourth or fifth time that I had done something along the lines of this, though this was the first time I hadn't bothered to beat the person with my bare hands, Taze them constantly, or at least just pour lemon juice on them, but we were all out of lemon juice, so I couldn't have too much fun.

"Alright scum, you've had your fill of looking at our forbidden jewels; time to begin your pitiful ascend into the afterlife."

He looked to me from the long, long, long line of guns, ammo, and workers flitting among them.

"How the _fuck _did you sodomist fuckers get a _tank_?!" I punch him in the face, feeling his nose crack, and some teeth dislodge from his jaw.

No one asks me questions. No one. That way, I can't reveal my true nature to those who thought I was a fucking goody twoshoes. So when I do suddenly freak the fuck out, it will be a surprise to everyone.

Ah, yes, making excuses to myself internally. I'm quite the hypocrite, apparently. Oh well, time to get some fun out of this guy. Through removal of more body parts, of course.

I dragged the guy out of the room and threw him on the floor, where he scrunched up to avoid having his bloodied stump touch anything.

I leaned down to him, bending over so that he could no doubt see down my shirt. I touched his chest gingerly, moving my hands down his sides and to his groin area. Oh, I may have forgot to mention, the prisoners are all kept without a shred of clothing, because they are not worthy of any dignity.

Despite the fact that he was bleeding out of his stump of a foot, and I had just broken his nose, he was still getting hard. Ugh, men; they disgust me so. At least most of the ones with us were nice enough to keep it consensual.

I bent down and breathed on it, still showing off my curves to the guy, who was shuddering either from the cold air, or my warm breath. I experimentally grasped it, checking to ensure that it was hard. Even when I'm in the mood for killing, I'm still fuckin' drop dead gorgeous. Go me.

I suddenly stood up, reaching into my back pocket, before straddling the man's legs in such a way that he was pinned, as he stared up at me, over the tip of his...hm, member, though it left much to be desired.

I pulled out a wicked-looking blade, with a serrated edge, and this is when it dawned on him what was happening.

"No! No! What the fuck? You're fucking insane! Just...kill me!" Well, he's just stating the obvious with his statement. I _was _insane, and I _would _kill him...after he laid in a room for four hours being rolled around on the floor and beaten some more by those who wanted to take a swing at him. We kept our forces peaceful against each other by having them take out their anger on people who wouldn't fight back, or tell them to just imagine people's faces on targets in the shooting range. That led to some interesting conversations, however.

I grabbed the man's shaft, rubbing it a few times to ensure that it was still firm, before placing the blade at the base of it, and beginning to cut into it.

The pain for him must have been immense; his chest tightened and his head nearly hit mine as he came up and struggled, but his hands were behind him, so he could do little but watch.

His pitiful screams of agony were renewed with each movement of my hand, slicing deeper through the flesh, first through skin, then the veins, then finally through the nerves in the center. Once I was through the center, though, I stopped slicing and removed the blade, wiping both sides clean on his hips, which were drenched in blood and sweat, but it got the meaty bits off.

I grasped the now-limp section of his manhood, and stood up, ripping the remaining veins and skin as I did so. I threw the useless piece of flesh down onto the man as he wept and cried out for the sweet release of death, but I wasn't done yet.

By this time, a small crowd had formed around me, mostly just whatever grunts had nothing to do and had the screams from the housing tunnels. I pointed at a few of the larger ones, nodding to the shell of a man, now devoid of his fun muscle. Well, most of it, anyways. Some shreds of the skin were still attached, but it was all the same joyous color of crimson, so for all intents and purposes, it didn't exist any longer.

"Take him to death row, salvage what you want to, get the rest for the freezer, and dump him in the pit." The pit, of course, being the incinerator. No noble death for him. I stooped down to collect his dick, pulling out a plastic bag as I did so, dropping it inside. The others in the crowd looked particularly perturbed, as most of them were of the male persuasion.

I looked around, a sneer forming on my beautiful, beautiful face.

"What, can't stomach it? Then get the fuck out! Go back to whatever you were doing." Quickly, the crowd dispersed, most roaming back into the tunnels where sleeping arrangements were packed together, while a small number went further down the tunnel to enter the small, decrepit looking door that was actually the entrance to our training facility, complete with 1000m long firing range, and a complete obstacle course. Of course, the trench crawling run used live ammo, but if you were stupid enough to put your head out there while under fire, you deserved to get a bullet to the face.

I went to the very end of the tunnel, past a few security checkpoints, to enter my personal quarters. I pulled a false wall out of the way and entered my "collection"; I always took something from my victims. For the past week, it's been the male genitalia.

I put the bag next to 41 others of the same approximate size and shape, stepping back to admire my "handiwork".

I'm so going to Hell. Well, at least I'll be able to join the love of my life...maybe.

**A/N: She's worried about ending up down there, how do you think I feel? Wait, right. Doesn't exist. Moving on, hope y'all enjoyed that, and **_**I'll be back **_**in a few days with more epic crazy shit. Ciao.**


	6. VI

Calamity Plus One

VI

**A/N: Alright, I know that a lot of people are getting confused because I'm throwing around POV's willy-nilly without mentioning who is who, and it only makes sense in my head, and telling you exactly who's who would be a major plot spoiler, but here's the breakdown of their callsigns, along with a rough summation of the character thus far, just in case.**

**Whip: Konata: She's got some serious guilt underneath that charismatic leadership stuff, but she keeps killing because she doesn't want to die.**

**Warrior:That Yandere chick from the end of The Library, I still can't remember her name: She's batshit crazy, killing is her favorite, and only, pastime, and she's hell-bent on steamrolling Tokyo with a tank made of burning faces.**

**Wisp:Miyuki:She's got some skeletons in her closet as well, and ended up wrapped up in this whole mess because she wanted to steer Konata out of it; needless to say, she failed. Miserably...or did she? **

**Kimi:Yutaka: Really only involved in this mess because Konata and some of her "friends" saved her from death via Japanese soldiers. Doesn't carry lethal weaponry, and is part of Akira's squad for unknown reasons.**

**Jungle:Minami: Cold-blooded, efficient, and not above killing to make sure the job gets done right. She's taken a few hits to the sanity-o-meter since everything started.**

**Akira:Real Name unknown: He's a hunter, through and through. He's the main reason the Wall was not constructed in short order. **

**Nanako Kuroi: Still a teacher, but also feeding any information she deems valuable to Konata. **

**Yui Narumi: No longer a traffic officer, she's caught in the crossfire when the rebels/cultists begin their attack on Tokyo. **

**Kagami: She joined the military after recuperating from her...incident...and her only goal now isn't survival, but to take the head's of the enemies' leaders' and mount them on her mantelpiece. **

**Tsukasa: She's dead, but she's not out of the game.**

**Alright, that was an extremely long "summary" (329 words!).**

**Plot, set thrusters to FORWARD!**

In the vast white emptiness, I discovered that I could give myself a physical form, and with that form I could see myself, and anything I thought into existence, appeared around me. Of course, before I entered my new vessel, I examined myself. It was me, hours before my death. My uniform was unsullied, my bow was on straight, and the gleam in my eyes belied no insanity, no thoughts of killing anything that moved.

No, it just looked like Hiiragi Tsukasa was just an average high-school student; struggled in some subjects, had a few friends, had a family, and just did day-to-day things.

It was such a good plan, when did I start to lose myself? No doubt, when I started to doubt the others.

Entering my, well, my _former _body, as I really possessed nothing but my thoughts now, I pondered more on how that normally human emotion brought down something as disgustingly inhuman as myself.

In thinking that Hiyori was trying to kill me, which, looking back, was something the poor girl would ever even _attempt _to do, I cut our forces down and made us less able to combat the authorities as they arrived.

Then there's Konata-san. She _had _been trying to kill me, and she won, didn't she? I'm dead, she's not, though time is meaningless here, so if I wished to see events a hundred years past the date of my death, she would be too, but that is not the point.

Hm, I wonder.

I attempted to conjure a scene in this endless realm of what the future on that date would be, but nothing but boundless grey smoke entered my body's vision, along with a sense of foreboding, almost like it wasn't set to happen yet.

Alright, so the future isn't a sure thing. Good to know.

How about...what kind of impact have I made?

This time was much better, bringing forth from the veil of white a marvellously destroyed and maltreated city block, the road covered in corpses of all shapes and sizes, and along it, a small number of people with guns making their way down the street.

I could feel a smile tugging at my lips.

Just as I thought of something else, a detail in the scene stopped me. Behind the figures going down the street, some of the "corpses" were rising from the ground soundlessly, wordlessly. They too, had guns, and looked to be around my own age.

As one, they gunned down the other figures, before advancing on them, taking their weapons, before lying down in the same place as before. Another group of the other figures turned the corner, and the process repeated itself.

This time, though, I wanted a closer look, and the view changed, giving me a lengthwise view of the section of street this treachery was occurring on, and what I heard, or rather, thought-heard, surprised me.

The ones laying in the street were yelling my name even as they killed others.

"For Tsukasa-sama!"

"For the Goddess of Anarchy! You will pay for your sins against the World!"

Me. A goddess. When was this? I had to know. This was delightful.

Again, my perspective changed, this time being in a shop of some sort, where the date was displayed vibrantly.

Only 5 years. In five years, somehow, some way, I had gone from dying a martyr in a, now-petty act of revenge against society, with some thoughts of being worshipped, to being _actually _worshipped, and sparking off what appeared to be some kind of class warfare between the youth and the older generations.

I giggled. This was too good to be true!

"It is."

I looked around, the voice coming from nowhere, and from the tone of it, close, and therefore not part of my world-crossing theatre.

"Up here."

Looking "up", brought me face to face with someone I didn't expect to see.

"...M...M...Matsuri?" She shrugged, 'floating' down to my level, or maybe she never moved at all.

"So this is the real you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Despite everything, and despite the fact that I was very, very dead, I was still afraid of what could possibly happen next.

"No, I'm not going to hurt you, Tsukasa, not that we could do anything while we're here, anyways. Anything you think, I can hear as clear as day. You need to learn to control your thoughts and actions, though looking back, you seemed to be a master of this."

Her facial expression never changed, it was still a bored face, on the verge of anger.

"...Maybe you're right. Maybe I did hide things from people, and...you're not mad?" She laughed, a bitter laugh that held no humour in it.

"Maybe I should be, but I've come to realize that people are the way they are, and getting mad at someone for being who they are will get you nowhere. Still, I'm pretty glad you got shot in the face; I'd hate to think how Mum and Dad would've reacted to your trial with 'upwards of one thousand counts of first-degree murder'."

"...so...how..." She replied before I could even think to say the rest of my inevitable question.

"How'd I die? Well, since you really want to know, yes I can sense your enthusiasm underneath that facade of sympathy, don't play me for stupid Tsukasa, I was killed by a night raid.

They came into the house with more stealth than a petty burglar, killed Dad by beating him to death while Inori and I and Mom were restrained and forced to watch, then the rest of us were raped and tortured. I had my ears cut off, so I couldn't even hear myself scream. Inori was sacrificed in some sort of ritual; they stabbed stakes through her and hung her from the ceiling by meat hooks, until her skin broke and dropped her 20 meters to the ground. I was forced to watch, as well. I don't know what they did to mum. I had my mouth pulled open and boiling water poured down my throat. Then they told me why they were doing this to me; they wrote it on the wall, so I could understand. They wrote it in my own blood, helpfully enough. The wall read "you are unworthy of the Goddess' name."

Even though I thought that their enthusiasm and brutality was fantastic, I still felt kinda bad about my actions cutting my whole family's life short. The only one who had been at fault was _Kagami_, and really, who could blame her? Well, I certainly could, but I was also a dead spirit talking to the dead spirit of my older sister about how she died, so I really couldn't consider much to be important right now.

"So, am I the only one you've met while in this place?" She was now sitting cross-legged, or maybe she was hovering in the ethereal void of this place, but in any case her eyes met mine.

"Yes, am I the same to you?" She shook her head, sending her hair across her face.

"No; I met with Inori for a while, we talked about things, she's visiting friends who were also killed; I also met Sakuraba-sensei." I gulped. I remembered killing the lady in question because she had almost _failed _Matsuri while she had her for a teacher.

"...and?" She blinked, like it wasn't a tentative, almost unwanted decision to utter the request for additional information.

"We talked about our lives, she commented about how she thought my whole family was so nice and normal on the outside, but really, we had more cracks in between us than poorly-set concrete. She also said that while she was surprised to end up dead, and murdered by a Hiiragi, of all people, she did say that she didn't even feel it, so she bears no ill will towards you."

I stared. I straight-up _murdered _the old woman, and she didn't hate me for it? The world's gone mad...well, I already _knew _that, but still! Wait...

"You say this like you knew we'd eventually talk...here." I said it slowly, running the thought through my non-existent brain, contemplating the consequences of it.

Matsuri only responded by bringing her hands in front of her face and slowly clapping, still not a single change in her facial expression.

"That is true. I spent a while freaking out over the fact that I was dead, but I eventually got over it and started thinking. I've been thinking for a long time now, before I sensed your body in the void, so I decided to talk to you. However, unlike me, who will not actively strike out against you in this empty void, I have met a few of your victims, and one person you've never met, that are attempting to kill you."

...Wait, we're already...

"Yes, that;s obvious." Wow, your mind-reading is freaky. But kind of cool too...if only I could've done that while I was still alive; hell, I'd probably be _still _alive i I could do that!...I wouldn't be much of a martyr then, huh?

Matsuri shook her head, sighing, like I was oblivious to what was going on.

"You're such a twisted sister, Tsukasa. Anyways, what I meant was that, apparently, if you are "killed" while here, you are erased from the minds of those who still live. If these spirits got their hands on you and destroyed you, and by extension your spirit, those alive who are doing vile actions in your name would forget about you, and why they were doing such things. In theory, this would end the bloodshed that is going on in Tokyo, but as long as you're still here, that can't happen.

As for your next question, no one really knows what happens to a spirit after it is destroyed. It is theorized by some of the inhabitants of this realm that you are reborn into the living, or you just cease to exist. I'd bet more so on the 2nd one...watch yourself, Tsukasa." As soon as I blinked, my sister was gone, as though she had never been here at all. Maybe she hadn't been.

So people want me dead, even when I'm dead? People still care!...I'll just have to kill them first...or maybe, just maybe, we can solve this peacefully?

Wait, what the hell am I saying?

Color SpiritSkyColor; /declaring a variable of type Color

SpiritSkyColor= ; /giving the variable a value

"Well, this sucks." I looked up, to where Jungle was hidden in the shadows, gazing out on the city with a pair of binoculars.

Last night's attack had ended a few hours ago, in the early hours of the morning. Well, I say ended, but really, we just stopped pushing and started shoring up our defenses.

My squad was in the tallest building that wasn't suffering from serious structural damage, and we were keeping a lookout for any enemy counterattacks. That wasn't very likely, though; a combination of our surprise attack, our terror tactics, and the enemies' incompetence, the police and military might that came out to meet us were ground into a fine red mist.

A few hours ago, some armored APC's tried driving through the district, apparently to attempt to extract some of their fighters. We responded with half a dozen anti-tank rockets to each vehicle; they didn't know it, but they were passing right by one of the main entrances to our tunnel network.

Shortly after that, we found some clustered military units holed up in an apartment building, hiding among civilians who were cowering for their lives. We did the smart thing, and snuck into the basement, affixed explosives to the support columns, and brought down the whole building, killing everyone inside in one fell swoop.

Now we're in the eerie calm that will punctuate the end of one attack, and comes before the next.

My squad had switched teams around 3 A.M, with the tired forces switching out for fresh, live ones who had been waiting in the wings.

Only two of Team 1 remained, but the fact that we had survived at all was a miracle in itself. We had gone _inside _the Wall, and came out without some bullet wound-related weight loss.

"Something on the horizon." I stepped up behind Jungle, peering out of the window to see what was up.

Several black helicopters were on the horizon, flying slowly towards the district. Well, actually, now that we had spread out and crashed through a few districts that were now little more than empty buildings, corpses, and concealed defenders, the helicopters were just coming straight at us. Either way, not a good sign.

"Alert Warrior." She flicked her hair to the side.

"She already knows." Pointing out to a slightly smaller building with its' roof in clear view of ourselves, a group of people were clustering around a large box that I hadn't noticed on the roof the last time I had looked out, probably because it wasn't there then.

"This will strike fear in the enemy." With one movement, everyone on the roof moved to the opposite side, away from the grey box. The helicopters were still in the far distance, but as they came closer, it became apparent that they weren't any normal helicopters; they were gunships, complete with missile pods on their wings and machine guns hanging underneath the nose. If they made it to the deployment area, we could have some bad news for the above ground crews...

Still the heavily-armed helicopters flew closer, and even closer still, but those on the roof did nothing except hide underneath tarps that were the same color as the roof.

The 'birds were still coming, their rotors starting to be heard above the mass sirens and alarms going off in the streets below.

Then suddenly, the rooftop flickered in a bright light, even brighter than the late morning sun hanging above us. Several dozen objects streaked forward out of the box, twirling and dancing with each other, before each breaking off and heading towards the gunships.

The formation broke apart from each other, each pilot fighting to avoid what I now realized to be guided missiles of some type, but it was to no use.

The first cluster impacted on the bird in front, consuming it in a fiery explosion, causing its' trajectory of dropping to avoid the explosive warheads to become a permanent drop until it hit the ground, clipping a corner of a roof, before crashing through a building a few kilometers down the road from us.

The other helicopters did slightly better, sending out chaff and firing missiles of their own, but in the end it did nothing to help them.

One by one the gunships fell, crash-landing into the district, where our salvage crews would most likely take the valuable components from among the mangled corpses of the now-dead pilots.

The sounds of the city soon returned to normal, as though the military had not just failed in an attempt to counter-attack.

Almost like they were testing the waters...

"Sir! The crash site doesn't have any bodies!" My earpiece chirped in, the salvage crews under my command had probably been near one of the crash sites.

Unmanned copters...yep, this didn't look good. Still eying the scene uneasily, I brought my mic up to my face.

"Understood; take what you can, and get back to staging area three. Myself and Jungle will be en route within the hour. Keep your eyes peeled, the enemy's movement are erratic, but seem to predict a large counter-offensive. Stay on your toes..." I cut the connection, having nothing more to say. I had a bad feeling in my stomach, and my hunches were generally pretty accurate. But this time, the stakes were higher. A lot higher.

If (x=18; x0; x-) {  
.Fire; /there's a bit of irony here; awesome, awesome irony

.Reload;

.Prime;

}

Far and away from even the prying eyes of those working for the fighters for a 'just' cause, past several high-security checkpoints, a beautiful and efficient metamorphosis was occurring at Haneda Airport. The tarmac was becoming a launching area for military aircraft, with helicopters lining the terminals and planes being flown over from other airforce bases, only to be lined up and await further instructions.

Watching from a closed-off section of the terminal that had, in recent times, been one of the busiest in the world, I felt like shooting the next person to address me. Of course, that would be in bad taste, but at this point, I didn't really give a fuck. I hadn't been reprimanded for killing civilians, but that was probably because the weak-ass military needs every able soldier we have, including those of us who enjoy shooting first, and asking questions _never_.

The bigwigs were really fucking up; they should just carpet bomb the whole fucking district or four, or whatever section of the city has been breached, and then indoctrinate the rest to think it needed to happen. It wouldn't be that hard, but the old smelly bureaucratic piss-bags were only thinking of how much property damage from businesses they owned in the area. Scumbags had so many conflicts in interest that I could wipe them all out in a "conflict of interest." Actually...I like that idea.

Too bad the confiscated my fucking knives before I came in here. Of course, this was supposed to be some great honor, to get a tour of the "might" we had assembled, and to see it be sent into action.

My CO was dead, and no one was listening to anything the soldiers on the ground were saying. They were _insisting _that air superiority would save the day. It's been less than 24 hours and already over 4 dozen of our heli's and planes have been shot down. I was lucky to make it back to our own lines and get picked up by a friendly APC, but I had gone through hell and back to get to that rendezvous point; begrudgingly, I respect that these fuckers _aren't_ fucking around.

Which makes them all the more fun to shoot at.

The whole terminal begin to shake slightly as a half-dozen turbo-prop-driven gunships took off one after another, starting to bank to the left once they were away. So long, suckers. Don't forget to write.

"...and that concludes our tour...Sir, do you wish to meet with the generals now?" I looked to my "guide", who looked vaguely familiar, but not close enough to match a name to the face.

"Yeah, but I can I get my guns back first? I don't feel safe without them." The guy's eyes flickered nervously underneath his brown hair, but he gulped and nodded.

"I guess it's fine...right this way..." So off we went, for me to get my shoots on, and not on the enemy either; well, they were getting in my way, so I guess you could call them an enemy.

private Revolution();

"Patty?" She looked up to me, a piece of ramen hanging out of her mouth. She just looked so adorable...no. Not now...I need to tell her...somehow. How will this change our relationship? She'll hate me forever...or maybe she'll understand and help me with the pain...though that's probably too much to ask.

"We need to talk." Her eyebrows raised, and she sucked the noodle into her mouth, licking her lips.

"About what? Do you need me to post for something again?" I blushed hard, but shook my hair vigorously. No, we didn't need to discuss that again. That was a moment of weakness, and to my credit, I never finished that particular drawing...something distracted me.

"No! I mean, um...well...it's about...this whole...cult thing. The...Hiiragi thing." Her eyes closed slightly, and her lips pursed in an unhappy way.

She put her left elbow on the table, and rested her chin on her palm.

"What's there to talk about? She shot up the school, killed a lot of people, and somewhere along the line managed to start a cult in her name...though, it is pretty fishy, her doing it all by herself...isn't it?"

Oh, shit, I think she knows. What if she knows and she wanted me to come out and say it? Will she think better of me if I just come right out and say it? No, I'll try to lead into it somehow.

"Well...yeah...what...what if I said that there were other people with her, helping her...when she...killed those people...at school...on that day...then." It hurt so much to say anything about it; my chest hurt just thinking about going to that place, and revisiting those memories from that day were just unbearable.

Patty shrugged, but still held the same sour expression.

"Even if there were, they never found anyone who said anything about exact descriptions...there might've been, but that Hiiragi girl was crazier than a box of rocks, she probably killed them too, when they were done being useful to her. Does this conversation have any...deeper...meaning...?" As she said the sentence, it seemed to have dawned on her the implications of what I was hinting at. Her expression finally changed, to one of absolute horror. The bowls of ramen between us were long forgotten.

"You...told me...to...stay...home..." Her face was still in the incredulous state of shock, and I was on the verge of tears. I started to nod oh-so-slowly, while she began blinking rapidly.

"...Why?" Her sole word was enough to break me, and I let the tears flow freely, feeling them slide down my face and drip off my chin, no doubt giving my ramen the taste of regret and melancholy.

"I...I...I don't know!...She came to me with the idea so long ago...and I was always being made fun of...and I didn't really enjoy life any more...and it just seemed like an easy way out! But then, as we started to get closer to the day..,...I was feeling remorseful, but I knew Hiiragi would kill me if I tried to duck out! She was guiding me to my own ruin! I felt guilty every time I pulled the trigger, but I kept killing! I didn't want to die! And now I'm here, with the most beautiful and loving girl I've ever met, and I don't deserve it! You deserve someone better than me! I'm just a piece of trash, a hypocritical stain of human nature that brought Death to so many that shouldn't have kissed its' sweet embrace for decades to come! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking, and I was just thinking in the moment and I'm sorry!

I know you probably hate me now, but, I'm so, so, sorry. I didn't want you to get hurt, and as we actually started to...you know...it hit me just how much in life I had to live for, and I threw it all away! None of this is real! I should've died on that day! I had been shot by Tsukasa because she thought I was plotting against her! And I was! Plotting to get away, and maybe see you one last time before I died!

But no! Because she tried to kill me, I was able to survive! Survive, and lead this phantom life that we've been living for the past 5 years!"

By this point, my eyes had no more tears to expel, and my vision was one orange blur, and I pushed my bowl out of the way so I could throw my head onto the table and sob dejectedly.

"You...you see...if you just kill me now...I'll be okay with it...I never deserved any of this in the first place...especially not you. You're perfect in every way, but I'm just an idiot who can't say anything about themselves is true, because not even I know who I am anymore..."

I heard her chair scrape back on the floor, wood against wood, but ignored it. She was probably coming to slit my throat with the bread knife, or something...I was such a terrible person.

But then, something I didn't expect. Patty's hands around me. She just hugged me from the side, but soon began stroking my hair as well. Her hands belied no evil, but I was still pouring out my eyes onto the table.

"Shhhhh..." She shushed me, her warm breath gently washing over my left ear. THis had to be some prelude to a stab in the back...maybe literally. The thought made me cry even harder.

"Come on now, maybe this will help." I felt my head being pulled up by her hand, but not in an over-bearing, mean way. Her lips coming down to meet mine was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

She deepened the kiss, and my tears mixed with our saliva, but when she broke the kiss, she stared into my eyes with a hard, cold look.

She let go of my hair, and turned around, folding her arms across her chest. She began talking without turning around, and I wiped my eyes on my sleeve before she got started in anything too relevant to my own imminent doom.

"Now that you've stopped crying, here's what I think."

**A/N: Oops, that's a cliffhanger. This chapter is longer than usual, even with the ginormous A/N up top. Hope that clears up some of the confusion. In addition, yes, I'll try to be more prompt with the next chapter, but this is a lot more complex than anything else I've ever done, so please bear with me. **

**Ciao~**


	7. VII

Calamity Plus One

VII

**A/N: Alright, while reviewing what I have for a plot summary for this so far, I realized that this is going to be quite a bit longer than The Library was. So yeah. We're just getting started on the fun parts! The intrigue...the killing...the more killing...you know, fun stuff! **

**Also, a little shout-out to people who rub their cheeks and look like an otter. You know who you are. And I must say, you look goddamn ADORABLE.**

**A/N, part 2: Sheeeeeeeit, I just saw the thing about that shooting in Connecticut. 28 dead, including the guy himself. I laughed. A lot. Like, actually thought it was funny.**

Take of that what you will.

Two knocks were all I got to before the door swung open, a grizzled old man who obviously hadn't shaved in the past week holding the door open. He looked ready to bite out a remark, but he stopped before he did so. A gun in your face usually has an effect similar to that.

The table in the middle of the room was surrounded by similar men; decorated military men, with no regard for what was actually going on. One of them, the only one whose name I knew, looked up to me.

"Captain! We're in the middle of a meeting...what is it you want?" I leveled my gun on him and said nothing.

"Wait! What is this! Where's the security?" I clicked my tongue, and that darling man who had escorted me to the private wing of the terminal heaved the two corpses into the threshold while he himself stayed out of sight. Who would have thought that he wanted to kill these old coots too? Bird of a feather flock together...birds for a slaughter...heh. Either way, the military men had faces that were quite simply, priceless. Fucking idiots.

"What...what is it you want? I'll do anything! You can't do this Hiiragi..." I looked to the man speaking, a portly old fucker who looked like he had stayed out in the sun for too long.

"Oh, _can't _I?" I swung the rifle around to him, and as expected, the sniveling fucker cowered behind another higher-up.

"So, what do you plan to accomplish by barging into our meeting with hostile intent, Hiiragi." _He _spoke as calmly as he could, but I could tell that he was trying rather hard to not piss himself in fear. That kind of thing usually happens when you're staring death incarnate in the face.

"Oh, nothing much, you know...just a hostile takeover of the military...what the fuck else did you expect?" Gasps of shock and murmurs of dissent echoed around the room. I must say, good thing that there's only one entrance, and good thing that I decided to carry a lot of bullets on me at all times. Oh my, look at the clock. It's Kill o'clock!

"Enough for games...you'll all be remembered for the decorated military men you were...say hello to the lady of the house for me, will you?" Without warning, I sprayed the whole clip into those surrounding the table, murdering all of them, making sure to leave no survivors. When I emptied the first clip, I checked the other side of the table, finding one man who had ducked down in the chaos. I reloaded, before walking up behind him. He turned around, looking up into my eyes, and whatever he saw scared the shit out of him. Literally. It was all over the place, a visible brown stain against his white uniform.

"Please...don't hurt me...I'm...I'm only an aide..." This was a blatant lie, however; despite his relative youth, his uniform was still decorated in all kinds of pins and ribbons, most of which were probably earned by sending others to their dooms'...I'd enjoy doing that.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He looked up, just in time to see the 7.62mm round fly through his head, splattering his insolent brains all over the place. I looked around the room, immediately finding the object I was looking for. I picked it up, turning it on, before speaking calmly and quickly into it, sounding nothing like I did mere moments ago. After all, I have to keep up appearances for those who need to see them.

"This is Colonel Hiiragi Kagami of the JSDF. I'm the highest-ranking survivor of an attack on our command center by the enemy. I regret to inform the enlisted men and women of our military that I arrived while the attack was in progress, and I witnessed the death of more than a dozen of our leaders. I have killed an enemy spy in the name of our country, and as of right now, I will be assuming command of the operation here at Haneda. Continue operating on your previous orders.

Will Sergeant Shiraishi and Corporal Kogami please report to Meeting Room Three. That is all."

It was really that easy; kill all of the higher ranked officers, and bam, you're in charge. After all, who in their right mind would argue with a Colonel in the military who still insisted to go out into combat? No one, because you'd get shot if you did. I made sure of it myself.

The real "spies" came into the room while I was still standing there, holding the wide-band receiver, causing me to jump in alarm. I can't let my guard down like that.

"Impressive, Colonel!" The pink-haired girl crowed, lighting up a cigarette and kicking a body to the side as she sat down in a regal leather chair, most likely paid for with the tears of small children.

"Y...Yes, that was an impressive feat, ma'am...but what are we going to do now?" I leaned against the table where there was a map of the city clearly marked out upon it.

I actually quite detest the Kogami girl, but she's well connected, due to her sleeping around with basically every guy in the military. She was the modern equivalent of Joan of Arc; a useless bitch, but could give the people what they wanted. Except I'm only one person, and the only thing I want is some connections to military contractors who can build me what I need to make sure that I will have my revenge in the most satisfying way possible.

"Well, first off, Kogami-_sama_, you're going to need to get me in touch with those darling gentlemen who modified the D11 for JSDF use." I made sure she knew of my contempt for the suffix, giving here the evil eye while leaning in with my gun tensed up, causing her to squeal in fear, and drop her lit cigarette into the gaping mouth of a bloodied corpse. How delightful.

"Alright, alright, don't do that! I'll get you their numbers...when do you want them?" I wanted them yesterday you fucking whore. Oh well, appearances, no matter how savage and close to the truth that they are, must be kept.

"I would _prefer _them to be in my list by tomorrow morning, 0600 hours. Now, you have some work to do." She jumped up out of her chair, straightened her mini-skirt hastily, despite the fact that she was wearing a shirt a few sizes too large that resulted in her hands being lost underneath the lengths of fabric, and dashed out the door, all too eager to get out of the room.

Shiraishi sighed upon the door closing, his shoulders sagging noticeably and he let out a sigh, most likely of relief.

I shrugged and bent over, beginning the task of tampering with the bodies and removing the evidence that would lead to myself.

"She's a cunt." He said it simply, without any real note of contempt behind it, which made me look up in surprise. The aide was also uncaring enough to use such a vulgar term in front of me...oh well, no one of importance should have to give a damn about manners anyways.

"Beyond her normal floozy mannerisms, or is she a psycho-bitch too?" He nodded, pulling his pant leg up, revealing a row of deep welts and discolored patches of skin.

"I was the only guy she's ever had a long-term relationship with, and her abusiveness knows no bounds. While I was doing a radio show with her, she attempted to put out her cigarettes in my eyes, she's whipped me dozens of times, and being suspended from the ceiling by your manhood while she puts a lighter to your toes is no laughing matter either." Wow, that's pretty extreme; what the fuck is this chick doing in the military? She needs her own game-show or some shit; she'll entertain the sheeple for as long as we need her to, right up until the day I put a bullet through her brain while on her Torture Show of Fun, or some shit. I'll figure out the details later.

"Why the hell did you stay with her, then?" If I were him, I would've dropped the bitch the first chance I had. With an armor-piercing round, just to make sure her thick fucking skull wouldn't save her, too.

He sighed and gave me a wry smile.

"I never said I was there by my own will. That, and after a while it turned into Stockholm Syndrome...I was in therapy for months after I escaped her estate. She's so crazy, she thinks that I never left, and I was lost in the basement or something. Can't you just kill her?"

Now this guy is talking my language: equal parts Crazy and Brutal; I speak quite fluently. Unfortunately, I need people to help carry out my plans. Well, until a certain point.

"After she's done being useful, I'll kill her for you, and you'll get to watch as I skull-fuck her corpse until she's dry, then I'll dump her broken body into the Tokyo Bay. Deal?"

He looked up from his looting of the corpses with the most feral and excited grin I've seen all day. I'll assume that's a yes. I'm going to have to watch these two...I have a weird feeling that Shiraishi isn't exactly what he seems to be either.

I'll deal with that later; right now, I need more hands to carry all of this loot!

"I need a luggage trolley sent to Meeting Room Three; we're moving the possessions of the recently deceased to the West Barracks." Conveniently, that's where I'm staying. I'll be able to mail a check for quite a lot of money to...wait, my family's dead. How about...no, they're dead, from what I can recall.

Wait, I have an idea; I'll send the high-quality stuff to those in the city, deck out the next wave of grunts flying into the meat grinder with some real crazy tech; those savages won't know what the fuck hit them, because really, nothing did.

Because, quite simply, _lasers_.We have lasers, right? Prototype energy rifles firing hypersonic projectiles that emit various shades of color as their core elements rapidly progress through their half-life upon contact with oxygen? Good enough. I want a rainbow one. You can't fit multiple elements into one? Bullshit. Get it done or you get a skull tunnel. The clock is ticking.

**div**You know how to make a fair fight? Neither do I, but I do know how to piss off web developers.**/span**

"Here's what I think." I was trying way too hard to not break down, beat her up, cry, hug her, or some combination of the above. I always had an inkling of what she had been up to that day, but after she got shot, that partially dissuaded my suspicions, but they had still lingered on. I had been correct, unfortunately.

Fucking Hiyori! What? I don't even understand...it's just not in her nature to do something like that...she's so cute and innocent and...wait.

She _is _those things. We're talking about the past here. People do stupid things...maybe her low moment was just killing a bunch of people while being egged on by a psychopath...a very clever and sly psychopath. Yeah, that's it.

But.

Am I just making excuses in my head? Am I just trying to place the blame on her so that Hiyorin can stay pure and unsullied in my eyes?

I have to make sure. If she's the girl I know...intimately, then she'll be able to answer me truthfully. But there'll always be that inkling...feeling, of differing opinion.

If she still had any remaining feeling of guilt, how best to rid them from her, or at least confirm that she won't do anything like that again?

"So you were there, and did those things." I began in a forceful tone, turning around and looking her right in the face. She cowered, and her face was just so red from crying. I almost broke down right then and there, but I told myself to be strong, that I had to do this, just to make sure.

"...Y...Y...Uh-huh..." She looked down in shame, her hands on either side of the bowl of now-cold ramen.

"How do you feel about doing that? Did it feel good:? Was it an enjoyable experience, bar the physical injury you had?" This got the kind of reaction I was expecting, and had hoped for.

She flung her head up and began screaming at me, but her sobbing had reduced her loud voice to a scratchy tone. She actually went on for quite a while, until I stopped her by advancing on her and hugging her, but even then, she kept going.

"No! Once we started...killing...I saw their faces! Innocent people, their lives being taken out from under them! It was horrible! I couldn't believe what I was doing! It was like killing myself, over and over and over again! So many people were ended by my hand, and I've done nothing to revenge them! I'm wasting away here, doing jack fucl-all to compensate for the horrible lie I've been living the whole time! If you were to strike me down today, I wouldn't mind! I really wouldn't! I deserve it! I was weak, too weak to refuse Tsukasa! I thought it was a good idea, we'd die as heroes and that would be it! What's worse, the only reason she was even able to wreak so much havoc was because _I _supplied her! My dad is a fuckin' Yakuza, I'm Yakuza, I got all kinds of shit for her and Konata! We had rifles, grenades, bombs, you name it! It was all paid for by my dad, at _my _behest! It eats away at me every day, that I can live and be merry and sleep comfortably at night and have you as my lover and not be affected by the fact that _I killed people_. _They're dead. _I eat every meal with a heavy heart, that if I hadn't existed, or at least if I wasn't who I am today, that so many others could be enjoying these same simple pleasures that I _denied _them! What more do you want?"

I dropped my fierce stance, my shell of stoicness being shattered by her words, and knelt down next to her chair and hugged her. But she didn't stop; not yet. She wasn't done. And I was okay with that. At least she hugged me back; I was afraid she wasn't going to. Through the fabric of my shirt she continued to speak; I could feel my collar stain with tears.

" You're making a mistake Patty. I'm not worth the dirt on the side of the road. I should've died on that day, and you'd be so much better off. You'd probably have found a nice guy who wouldn't burden you with the social stigma of being a lesbian, wouldn't burden you with having a low-paying, high-effort job like me, would have attainable goals, and most of all, wouldn't drag you down and potentially ruin you by association. I'm not worthy of having anyone, much less such a perfect girl like you..."

Uhoh, I didn't mean to make her that upset...well, it was coming with the territory of admitting your deepest, innermost secret, especially something of that...magnitude.

My own feelings were in turmoil though, but not with her, personally. I was head-over-heels in love with her, no doubt about that, but the fact that she was a killer on the loose sure did put a damper on things.

Did I hate her? No. Was I disappointed in her? That's not really the word I'd use. My feelings come out somewhere between turned on by it, and mildly reproachful that we hadn't been one hundred per-cent truthful with each other thus far, but that had hopefully been rectified. I didn't keep any secrets, no, but then again, I can also see why, from her perspective, why she would be loath to tell me.

No, she had her reasons, and while they were sound enough for the time they were upheld with, the fact that they came crashing down in the wake of this whole battle in the city and those killers on the loose meant that she really didn't have any want of getting back to that type of thing. She was, no doubt about it, a reformed, deeply-disturbed, depressed, former, genocide-committing girl.

I love her just the same. Does that make me a bad person? If it does, I don't want to be a good person.

Aw, she fell asleep on me...good thing she's not too heavy.

I got up, keeping her upright in the chair, before pulling her out of the chair, careful not to hit the table with any of her limbs. Carrying her in my arms, I deposited her onto the couch on the opposite side of the room, making sure she was comfortable among the couch cushions. As I covered her with a blanket, I saw a flash out of the window.

In the sky, something blinding-white had erupted, sort of like a flare. It was hard to tell how far away it was, but I'd guess it was on the other side, near where that gang of rogues had busted through the Wall. As I shielded my eyes, I saw a large shape block my view of the white object. This shape was slow-moving, and the whirring sound that cut above the sound of the night told me it was a helicopter, or something similar. It stopped moving after a minute or so, and troops began to drop ropes out of the belly, and rappel down them. They were less than a hundred meters from myself, so I could see their armor clearly.

Black with red highlights, they weren't the normal green camo of the defense forces in the city. Special forces maybe?

If they're involved, that makes me worry greatly. Maybe this uncoordinated attack from this gang was a lot more than they were letting on to be.

I picked up my cell-phone from the desk next to the couch, where Hiyori continued to snooze peacefully, and called a friend.

"Can you see what's going on outside?"

The older voice responded back excitedly.

"Oh, of course! It's all over the news! There's been a hostile takeover in the military, and the new bigwig is pouring a _lot _of money into making sure this uprising is squashed. Hell, the bigwig might sound familiar to you." Well, that's never a good sign, but he was generally very dependable, being a writer himself.

"Dare I even ask?"

The old man giggled in a girlish way, reminding me that I had probably interrupted him while he was getting off to little girls. Ugh. People sometimes.

"Hiiragi Kagami, of course. Seems like crazy runs in the family, huh?"

No.

Fucking.

Way.

Wait, she can actually walk?...You know what, I don't really want to know.

It's official, the whole world's gone mad. And I'm the only sane one left.

"So, you talked to Konata recently?"

The sharp intake of breath reminded me that this was a very bad topic, but I had forgotten...I was probably in for a hang-up, followed up by a tearful call several hours later.

What I got instead, was surprisingly.

"...Yes...actually...we talked about an hour ago...she's...fine. She was...with friends. I was able to talk to Yutaka as well, before they had to go...they hung up with gunfire in the background...I'm scared for her...I really am..."

He was living in fear, just like so many of the parents in the city were. Months could space out conversations with your child, and a lot of the time, they wouldn't survive that long.

The only reason myself and Hiyori were able to stay in the city was because we had actually been out of town in Kyoto when they heaved everyone out, so when we came back, we had nothing but the clothes on our backs and the contents of our bags. Hiyori was able to recover most of our stuff through some friends, which I now realize were probably Yakuza.

Wow, I've missed a lot by not being more perceptive...fuck, I'm gonna sleep on it. Nothing good is going to come of this, besides being closer to Hiyorin...and look at me, shrugging that off like it's no big thing!

We need to reconnect...yeah, that'll do both of use some good. I'm still feeling it from my twisted perception of her blowout.

**/ TEMPORAL ERROR: CANNOT PLACE EVENT WITHIN CURRENT TIMELINE. SEPERATE TIMELINE GENERATED. CALCULATING APPROXIMATE ENTRANCE AND EXIT TIME OF EVENTS IN TIMELINE2 COINCIDING TO TIMELINE1. **

**A/N: Well, that was a long time in the making, but I feel like I've gotten a good handle on what's about to happen, so, if you're feeling pretty optimistic, expect a new chapter in the next few days. I wouldn't hold my breath, however; I've been busy lately, and the next week garners little to no time to actually sit down and write. Not that I won't try, though. **

**Ciao~**


	8. VIII

Calamity Plus One

VIII

**A/N: Alright, I'm back with fresh ideas. Well, actually, I was sick for a whole week, which sucked, but I'm good now.**

**This is going to be absolutely crazy, and the last comment in the previous chapter has a lot of meaning. Actually, I hope y'all pay attention to those, because it's all part of the story. Except for that one about pissing off web developers. That was just an in-joke for me.**

**Onwards with the funtime-things.**

"**Death, why am I loved and you are hated?" **

"**Because Life, you are a cruel lie and I am a painful truth."**

"Get in line, get in line!" The sea of uniformed individuals was gathered around my podium, staring up at me with a delightful mixture of bloodlust and hope. They really thought that I was some proud military leader that was going to lead all of them to victory and back. Useless cro-magnons, I hope they are all ground into a fine paste, and only their leader will be worthy enough to be mounted to my shoulders as a reminder to keep your friends closer, your enemies closer, and their skulls right in contact with you at all times.

It had been a few days, and with the phone numbers that the crazed hooker bitch Akira gave me, I was able to get in touch with the top defense contractors in Japan, and discuss a few proposals with their R&D teams.

I may have a single-minded thirst for revenge, but I also understand how things work, and the weaponry that I'm providing for the newly-created Anti Terrorist Civil Defense Corps to use in our slaughter of the enemy was some highly advanced gear. It would turn each soldier into a veritable powerhouse, which was saying something, considering my own effectiveness with standard gear, and how I had fared in simulations with the new equipment.

Once they had formed into semi-recognizable rows, I began to speak into the slew of microphones mounted to my podium, causing the area to reverberate with my voice as it was emitted out of a scattered collection of speakers in the area. I began with confidence, portraying only what I wanted to portray; the charismatic leader who wishes only what is the best for their country. Of course, the same cannot be said for me.

"As you know, each one of you have been selected to become the backbone of the city's effort to drive the wretched scum that is this "Resistance" group out of the city, and to grind it out of existence! As soldiers in the Anti Terrorist Civil Defense Corps, you will have one goal, and one goal only! The utter extermination of the enemy, no matter the cost or the civilian sacrifice!

I will not lie to you, you will not come home the proud heroes of the country that a normal soldier would. If you come home at all, you will be remembered as "those skull-faced walking suits of armor that kill friend and foe alike". There is to be no hesitation! If any one of you so much as refuses to kill a civilian that is in the way of allowing you to complete an objective, I will know about it, and if you don't die on the field of battle that day, I will end you myself!

This is a dire time and these measures are being put forth at a dire cost. Each and every one of you will be equipped with the best technology this country has to offer, and with it, each of you are fully expected to walk to hell and back! Not just for me, as your commanding officer! But for all those Japanese citizens who will live to see another day due to our actions, and for all those that will die through the course of our campaign of righteousness! For each of the innocent whose blood is spilled by our hands, another thousand will be saved by our actions! Is that not a just enough cause to take the fight the streets, to the tunnels, to the very depths of the enemy's' lair? If we cannot fight them on even ground, then we will pound the ground into slag until it is even!

There will be no remorse! There will be no retreat! There will be no regrets!

There will be deaths among you! There will be deaths among the innocent! There will be deaths among the enemy!

I am leaving it to _you_, the best of the best, to ensure that those who die are only those who _deserved _to die! _Needed _to die!"

The crowd of black-and-red clad individuals erupted into a cheers, shouts, and whoops.

Oh, how easy it was to manipulate these weak-minded individuals. True, they would have some crazy equipment. But the fact that convincing them to kill civilians without a second thought was so easy, just proved that this country was really in the shitter and full of idiots, no matter what side you were looking at, youth or the old government, everyone was ignorant, and needed a strong leader to prevent it from falling into ruins.

I feel sorry for the poor fucker who comes after me and tries to clean up this mess. I'm ditching this horrid job once that cunt is dead. I'll retire peacefully to Australia or somewhere in Europe maybe...I'm sure Germany has room for another awesome war hero, right?

That's right, _I'm _the hero, it's Konata that's the villain...and even if that weren't the truth, the real truth isn't written by those who are right, but by those who are left.

I think I have this in the _bag_.

"Alright, now then, time to get armed and ready! Head out of the area and into the tents at the edge of the landing strip! Inside is volunteers who will outfit you with the beast weapons in the world! Afterwards, you'll be loading up into ZX-21 transport helicopters and rappelling into a meat grinder! Who's ready to show those rotten fuckers who's boss?"

The resounding shouts and the echoing of stomping feet as the crowd of nationalistic men and women departed towards the aforementioned tents was more than enough of an answer for me.

Idiots.

/1 This is what we must do to ensure ultimate victory.

/2 No, that's crazy. That won't ever work.

/1 Are you saying that because you're scared?

/2 No! It's just playing the Creator; it's wrong.

/1 Then lets break the limits, and do it anyways.

/2 ...Fine. For Kami-sama?

/1 Of course.

"Hey, we're low on fuel, we need to head back!" The needle was dipping towards the E, and the truck had taken more than enough punishment for one day; no, for an entire month of close-in fighting.

The sliding panel between myself and Miyuki, and _her_ opened, and _her _face peeked in, covered in grime and what may or may not have been congealed blood, though it probably was.

Warrior, in all her twisted glory, is still just a schoolgirl with a death wish. What could be seen of her face was beet-red in the late morning sun, which was shining through the shattered skyline to cover us in uncomfortable light.

"Yeah, I was about to suggest we head back to resupply, my ammo just ran out and there's no suppliers in sight; I think they might be all dead. Still, I fired this .30 cal for a good 10 hours, maybe? We sure did mow 'em down. Let's go back, ne?"

It still sickens me that someone can talk about slaughter and war with such a casual manner, but I've been taken by it slowly, so maybe it's just a sign of madness. After all, a bullet to the head is still more humane than gas...I'm a terrible person.

I nodded, looking back to the steering wheel, where the locations of my hands had worn a mark into it. I had been gripping it much too tightly, worrying for my life even when we were cruising around in a bulletproof shell.

"Yeah, let's get going. Konata, if you take a left up here, it's a straight 3km till the tunnel entrance." Miyuki, you're a lifesaver, as always. Not to mention a human GPS.

Throwing the behemoth in gear, I took the aforementioned turn, to be greeted by yet another sight of our war on the people.

Bodies littered the street, their grotesque positioning indicating the myriad of ways they died; most likely tortured, with no respect given to the dead. They had been stripped of any valuables, and the corpses dumped by the dozen in the road. There were so many, and as I drove, slowly, I could feel as each skull popped from the sheer weight of the Russian vehicle. Their bones were grinding into the ground, grinding on each other, and ultimately, it was too much for them to handle, and they would be nothing but a fine powder by the time that I was done being on top of them.

I had no right to be on top of them. For what it's worth, I should be right there with them; a faceless death among so many others, forgotten by those who remain among the living just as quickly as the bullet rips through their brain. Because when you're dead, no one cares about you...except your loved ones, but that's only if they know you're dead.

And in this war on terror by terror itself, it's hard to know whether your husband, mother, brother, friend, or coworker is dead underneath all that rubble, or is just trapped, breathing, pleading with every God they can think of to make it out alive, and maybe survive another day.

"Oi, open the latch! Quickly, there's millies converging on us!" Warrior's shouting of orders jarred me from my awful thoughts. I quietly thanked her for that, which may be the only time I've ever been thankful that she's still breathing. But that's another matter for another day.

The decrepit garage door in front of us opened up, revealing a fortified outpost, with the floor quickly turning into a ramp, lit on both sides by stolen work-site lamps. It descended into a hand-dug tunnel for several meters, before joining into the sprawling subway tunnel system that we were now living in.

On both sides, our fighters sat, leaned, laid, or crouched along the walls, forming a living, shifting layer between us and the flickering walls that let us know we were still moving.

As soon as the door shut behind us, the whispers started. Before long, a few people were shouting, clapping, hooting, and celebrating. By the time I eased the rear wheels over the slight gap at the end of the hand-dug section into the subway tunnel, it was a low roar, with people hugging and crying and laughing.

I still felt pretty empty inside, but on the bright side, these kids still think that we're the good fight. And hey, maybe we are, in the end. But right now, I just feel like some kind of monster, bringing back the harbinger of death that first spelled doom for those living comfortable lives on the other side of the Wall.

But as I've learned, war doesn't determine who is right, only who is left. And really, that's all that matters in the long run.

Driving along back towards the vehicle depot, people continued clapping and cheering, and, cracking my window slightly, because breathing the same air for a day and a half was quite stifling, I heard some people firing off rounds.

Typical.

As we got down the final stretch of tunnel, with us coasting on just the faintest fumes of diesel, I saw the only person I had really been worried about. She was against the wall, talking to her pseudo-guardian.

Yutaka. She looked pretty happy, even though she's been caught up in all of this...her face is dirty, and she's looking pretty tired, but she's happy.

I let myself slump in my seat slightly. I looked over to Miyuki; she had fallen asleep at some point in the last hour, her beret covering her face, her chest rising and falling slowly in time with her breathing.

I had gotten her into this mess too...but something tells me she's enjoying this. I don't know why, but I have this weird feeling that she's just as sick and twisted as the rest of us...but it's just a feeling, and nothing else. It wouldn't surprise me if she were, but she had made a solemn promise to me to drag me screaming through Hell and back, so maybe she's just putting on a strong face, for me ,and for herself, too.

I sure hope so.

Finally, thanks to the slight incline of the tunnel, we coasted into the vehicle depot, stopping just a few meters from the head mechanic.

His eyes got as large as dinner plates when he saw the ZPU, however. Well, most of what was left of it, really.

"My baby! You wrecked my baby!" He proceeded to have a fit over our treatment of his "baby". We only drove it through an urban war zone for the better part of 18 hours, and even with the steel plating that had been attached to it at key points, it was still pretty nicely shredded by the constant small arms fire. By the end of it, I was having to dodge bullets, because the engine compartment couldn't take much more abuse. There was enough frayed metal along the length of it to make a frilly dress out of. Or a dozen frilly, metal, dresses. Your pick.

After I got out and Warrior berated the mechanic for talking down to his superiors, we headed out of the cavernous room, our destination the semi-permanent war room in the center of the labyrinthine complex. We got two other mechanics to carry Miyuki behind us on a stretcher; she didn't wake up, even when one of them had a bloody nose all over her while attempting to remove the 5-point harness, which meant getting pretty touchy. Guys sometimes...damnit, now Miyuki-chan is making me feel bad about myself, and she's not even conscious! Oh well, there's still guys out there who enjoy bread boards...I hope.

/3 This is a comment.  
/3 This is also a comment.  
/3 Comments should be used to comment things.  
/3 Self-explanatory comments are self-explanatory.  
/4 Did you really need to do that?

/3 Yes, otherwise, they might not know what a comment is!

/4 Wait, who the hell is "they".

/3 The squirrels, of course!

/4...I hate you.

/3 Hey, there's our target. Do your pew pew stuff, wind direction is 4km/h east.

/4 Target down. Why are we popping civilians again?

/3 Orders are orders. Do you _really _want to piss of Hiiragi-san?

/4 Point taken. Lets continue getting suspicious targets, because even though we probably shouldn't kill civvies, I'd rather not have all the skin on my body ripped off. I also quite enjoy not having my tendons snipped with a pair of surgical scissors, but hey, that's just me. Plus, _lasers_.

"Oh you, Miki-san, you're such a joy to talk to." Even in death, girl-talk is quite the power to behold. _Especially _when all of those present, except one, were brutally murdered.

"Nonsense Kanata-san, you flatter me too much." Among the whiteness of the world of death, four women found themselves sitting at a table, discussing anything and everything, just to pass the time, as time doesn't exist. They might be there for a while.

Seated at the square table was the two oldest Hiiragi sisters, their mother, and the eponymous Izumi Kanata, who was late to the information party, and was unaware of the current situation.

The Hiiragis knew this, and they were carefully avoiding the topic until they felt it was necessary.

"So, I know this is a touchy subject...but how did you three die? Sorry if that's too much for you right now, but you'll never get over yourselves if you don't own up to it. I got very sick and died, there's nothing more to my story. How about you three?"

Instantly she knew she had passed some bound that might've done better had it not been crossed, but instead of being yelled at, the Hiiragi mother just folded her hands on the table and looked to Inori and Maturi, who all looked at each other.

"Izumi-san, there's a lot that you don't know, least of which being how we died. We'll start from the beginning."

Inori picked up the lead from here.

"About five years ago, your daughter, my sister, and another person, who we don't know exactly who it was, committed the worst atrocity in modern times; they shot up their school, but went one step further, and somehow obtained poison gas, which was set off inside the cafeteria when it was jammed with students who were attempting the escape the shootings. That day, more than 80% of the school's population died. That's over 1000 people. To make matters worse, our sister raped and nearly killed her twin, and committed suicide when the police intervened. _Your _daughter managed to place blame and get off scot-free, and continued living as though it never happened. Do you want us to continue?"

Her face was a mask of terror, and silent tears fell from her eyes. She bit her lower lip, before shakily nodding slightly.

Matsuri continued the recounting of the horrible string of events that led up until the present day.

"Now, after that one terrible shooting, there were several similar killings and massacres all across the country within the next month, before an organized group dedicated to "the world set out by Tsukasa-sama". Under normal circumstances, a cult like this would be squashed in short order. Of course, this was not the case.

In any case, the government exiled Tokyo's youth to ghettos and built a giant Wall to separate them from the rest of the city. Somehow, almost every person younger than 18 began to join that cult, and as of right now, they're involved in a full-scale war against the police and military. And they might win, too."

Miki brought her own facts to the table, both figuratively and literally; either way they weren't very happy.

"And of course, you're asking how we died. It's simple, really. Some of those cultists broke into our house one night right before the fighting started and beat us, raped us, then killed us. That's the short version; we were tortured too, but you don't want to hear about that. Anything else, Izumi-san?"

The three Hiiragis had pensive faces, but Kanata Izumi's only held sorrow, grief, anger, and disbelief. She regarded each of them in turn, who each nodded back in return. She adjusted herself, contemplating.

Her little girl had really done all of that? But, she was such a sweet little girl...could she really have been corrupted by the evil in the world? Anything was possible...but. Wait. She said that their sister had committed suicide. That meant she was here...That's a place to start, perhaps.

She addressed Inori, who had recounted that section specifically.

"Is your sister here? If so, where?" She looked off put by this, like this was _not _the question she had been expecting to hear. Well tough toots girl, I want answers, and this is only one side of the story. It has to be.

"Yeah...she's...over on the fringe, near the edge. She's...not right."

As she dropped through the whiteness, Kanata replied.

"I'd assume so, but even if she not right, she's still got her version of the story."

The tears rose as she fell, creating streams of watery sadness through the white void.

**A/N: Just want to point out that since they're in the spirit world/world of the dead/purgatory, some serious Turn It Up to Eleven will be invoked here. Or just old fashioned curb-stomping. Either way, it'll be freaking awesome.**

**Again, can't promise anything about frequency of updates, but I didn't work on this chapter for a whole week, so **_**hopefully **_**it'll be quicker next time. (Read: If I'm not more on the ball, I'll eat my shoe. My fancy Euro-sport shoe.)**


	9. IX

Calamity Plus One

IX

**A/N: It's sad to only realize it was New Year's Eve/Day because people in the game was wasting my life on were spamming chat with it. Turns out I had been on it for ehhhh 16 hours straight? Not an MMO, even. Tribes, home of the exploding frisbees and a hell of a lot of shazbot. Tribes: Ascend is the main reason I don't update like a man with a mission...The enemy has our flag! Here's a chapter while I go chase the butcher down!**

"This is the police, open up!" I woke up to the sound of the front door being knocked down, and before I could even get out of bed, I was being hauled out of bed by people I couldn't see, because they were shining flashlights in my face that blocked out everything. I heard Patty yelp as she was treated similarly.

"Hey, don't hurt her!" My struggles were only met with a hit in the face, knocking me down onto the wooden floor. I could feel the warm trickle of blood down my face, and this time, it had nothing to do with

I heard footsteps coming in slowly, and through the blinding light I saw a single figure. As they walked up to me, they stepped on my fingers, causing me to wince, but I didn't give them the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

"Well, I didn't want to barge in at three A.M., but my schedule is certainly tight these days. Release them." The gloved hands keeping me pinned to the floor vanished, and I was allowed to stand up.

Standing nonchalantly against the doorway, holding some kind of gun, was the other half of the Hiiragi ball of insanity, Kagami. At least,I think it was; her helmet was covering her head completely, but lilac hair, tinted white by the high-powered flashlights shining all over the place, didn't leave many other options.

There was silence for a few seconds, with no movements besides those aforementioned flashlights sliding over our worldly possessions of our bedroom.

"So, I just came by to pick you up so we can go out and have a drink. Well, that, or you can refuse, and I put both of your asses in prison what'll it be?" Yeah, this is Kagami. But I don't think she...um..._knows_...about my involvement in the original set of events...in fact, I saw her in the hospital a few times while we were both recovering from our injuries...what happened to her, anyways?

"...Sure. Can I get dressed first? What's going to happen to Patty?" The helmeted figure just shrugged.

"She's free to go." She turned her head to address Patty, who, out of the corner of my eye, was leaning on the dresser, shaking just a little bit.

"Go back to bed or whatever; I'll bring Tamura-san back here when we're done having our little chat." She nodded, and proceeded to pick up the sheets that had fallen onto the floor, put them on the bed, and get in. She was snoring before I was even escorted out of the room.

Man, she's _so _incoherent when she needs sleep. She probably won't even remember this until she wakes up and realizes I'm not there.

Kagami had one of these other military guys open the door, stepping out onto the balcony, revealing kind of a lot of traffic jamming. Maybe it was the heavy military vehicles forming a roadblock, and more than a dozen weird-looking red armored figures walking around, while a helicopter shone a searchlight overhead into the street in front of us.

I looked to Kagami, who had shooed the others down the stairs to ground level and closed the door.

"All for me? There's no way this is going to end well for me." Helmeted gun-toting badass looked at me, or at least turned her head to me, and gestured down the stairs.

"This is all my protection; if I could've, I would've just taken a car over and asked nicely. Of course, now that I head the majority of the armed forces in Japan, I'm required to take a bull's head worth of men with me wherever I go. So, where's the nearest 24/7 coffee house?"

Jesus Christ, what the hell has she been doing these years gone by?! Apparently a lot to make herself respected...and feared, if the bad blood was in both of them, which I would bet my life on. Yeah, it's not worth that much, but at this point, I'm betting on a sure thing.

"Um...the O-Bar around the corner is open all the time...I don't think all of these guys will fit in that establishment, though." We walked down the stairs, past the saluting soldiers who lined both sides of the sidewalk, and turned to approach the crosswalk. We crossed it immediately, because the roadblock was preventing any traffic from going down the street. I pointed in a direction, and we walked in silence for a few minutes.

I looked back, and surprisingly, no one was following us.

"Why are you so _paranoid _Tamura-san? Like I said, I would've preferred to do this at a more decent hour, but I'm a very busy person, and we're just going to have a chat, you're going to answer some questions, and then we'll part ways." Hard to believe that when I can see 3 guns on her, plus what looks like frag grenades...a lot like the one I had..._no. Don't think about that._

"I'm just skittish around the police...I know they're here to keep us safe, but after all this stuff about those Marauders...no one is really safe. I mean, just yesterday, some guy got sniped right in front of our apartment. There was no one around, and he went down like a sack of bricks. I was working at the time, but I saw the ambulance pull up and carry him into the back. There was a hole right in the middle of his forehead."

The coffee shop was coming up on the right, and as the door closed behind us as we entered, she _immediately _removed her helmet, panting slightly.

"I hate these _fucking _helmets. About what you said...yes, I'm trying to keep everyone together, but there's a lot of fear, and the enemy...well, they're actually a threat."

We sat down, and she started speaking in a lower tone, despite the fact that ourselves and one other person who appeared to be sleeping behind a newspaper were the only patrons in the small shop. I leaned in as well, wanting to hear what the older...and now only, twin, had to say.

"The media has done a great job of downplaying the scope of the threat, but it might not be enough. We've had a couple of snitches in their forces, and via cameras concealed on their person, we watched their mess hall for a few minutes. Their forces dwarf our own several times over; they're receiving foreign aid, so most of them are carrying _some sort _of weapon."

The waiter came over and we placed our orders; an iced coffee for me and a black coffee for her. She bowed deeper than normal, if at all, because I noticed that she saw the insignia of the military on the elder Hiiragi's shoulder, along with some ranking thing that looked pretty elaborate.

I pondered what she said, as she eyed me. She might be testing me, looking for me to crack, or maybe she doesn't even know about my suspected involvement...but if she doesn't, then why is she here? I only talked to her sparingly in high school...so then, what?

"So it's actually fully possible for the military to...lose? What would happen then? Their goals...what are they, if there are any?" She folded her hands and put her arms on the table.

"Wholesale, city-wide slaughter. They're monsters, really. They're bloodthirsty, hateful, and ignorant. I'm not sure what went on to reduce such a massive amount of people, the majority of the city's youth, into a raving pack of animals that can still organize and fight effectively.

"I was part of a helicopter strike force when they first attacked and...made it through the Wall. We began our attack about 12 hours after that happened. They shot down my helicopter, but I parachuted out and took down their anti-air battery with a machine gun as I glided by. There was no remorse for the dead, and while I was making my way back to friendly forces, I had to kill many of them. the worst part is that I came upon several of them who were feasting upon the bodies of one of my soldiers.

Straight-up cannibalism is what they're resorting to. It's disgusting, and above all, it shows that there's something else going on here. Not _just _some rebel motherfuckers trying to take over the city. I'm fighting against that, and that war is in the public eye. But there seems to be an invisible war going on, and I can't fight against something I can't see."

Our coffee arrived, and while I sipped on the refreshingly cold drink, she downed hers in little more than two gulps. Well, _someone's _running on coffee. Can't say I blame her. Though some of this shit she's spewing is sounding a lot like that. _Bullshit. _I've talked to one of these "monsters" in the past week...discreetly of course. Which makes me wonder; how the hell is Konata-chan's cell phone still working if no one is paying...ohhhhhhhhh. Soujiro-san must've had the bill in his name, and continues to pay it. Clever.

I stopped her with a wave of the hand before she could continue spewing bullshit that would make politicians proud.

"Why are you telling me all of this? It doesn't affect me at all. Not to mention, you said before that I'd be 'answering some questions', but I haven't answered any questions yet. So what gives?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she developed quite the grimace, apparent even in the dim light of the coffee shop. But only for a second, before she was back to the same neutral expression, displaying a faint look of hurt. You two-faced bitch.

"Your words _wound _me, Tamura-san. I only said that so I could get away from my entourage of idiots. You are one of the few people I know of that I can talk to on any level of comfort. My family? All dead, started a string of events that's plunged the city into chaos. Ayano and Misao? Dead, and in Misao's case, she can't remember anything from about the shootings, so she's limited at best. Miyuki-chan? Confirmed to be working with the enemy. I heard her on a tapped radio signal coordinating mortar strikes. Izumi-san? Missing, assumed to be an enemy. Yourself and Patricia-san are some of the only people I know that aren't swallowed up by the madness."

I could feel my eyebrow twitch. I;m getting _really _sick of her innocence card. Oh look! Her MP just ran out, and the jig is up.

I slammed the table with one hand, careful not to slam my drink.

"Cut the shit Hiiragi, the pleading innocent shit isn't working. What do you want from me? You're pretty fuckin important, apparently, so just _having a drink _is a shitty excuse."

Finally, the hard look came back, and didn't leave. Finally, we're getting somewhere.

"Fine. You don't like formalities and gossip? I'll tell you what I want from you. Konata Izumi's cell phone number. I know you have it, and I've heard more than a few of your conversations in the past. You seem to know her quite well, but you don't seem to know the truth, either."

Uh oh, time to walk the fine line. One side is nothing but an endless abyss, the other, a safe place. Oh dear. I have to step _very _carefully, or else I might slip, fall, and impale myself on something horrible.

"...What do you mean, the truth?" Play stupid, or at least, ignorant. Yeah, ignorant is better than stupid.

Kagami sighed, reaching down and pulling one of her guns off of her thigh, setting it on the table, the barrel aiming out the window. So she wasn't looking to use it on me...yet. That's a good sign...I think.

"Konata-san is an enemy. She's killed many people. Her preferred method of...'disposal'...is a pistol, similar to one of these. From psych profiling, I've gathered that she believes that because she doesn't use a large weapon like her allies do, it makes it okay, and in her eyes, she's only doing it 'to survive'. Yet you can talk to her and act like nothing is wrong. Did you even know that she's suspected to be one of the main leaders of this army of rebels? _Did you?_"

I feigned horror, which was only partially a lie, anyways. I still don't like to think about what's going on, but I can ignore it most of the time and shut it out while working.

"...No...I mean...I knew she was living outside the city...but...I didn't think she'd ever...you know..._kill_ someone." Okay, I think I did a good job on that, and she's not aiming that gun in my face,so I think that's good too.

"Yes, Tamura-san, people are capable of doing terrible things when under duress. You haven't done anything you regret? I doubt it, but that's neither here nor there. So where's her number, hm? I want to have a little chat with our friendly neighborhood blunette as well."

I looked at my pants; they were sleep pants, lacking pockets. I looked back to her, who had a hand outstretched.

"Ummmm...my phone is back in our apartment. I'm wearing sleep pants, and they don't have pockets. Can I have your number, and I'll text it to you as soon as I get back there?"

She seemed to mull it over for a second, before sighing and quickly grabbing her pistol, only to slide it back into her holster. Holy shit, she almost gave me a heart attack.

She took out a pad of paper and a pen, wrote down a phone number, and ripped off the piece of paper, handing it to me.

"There. If I don't get the text within an hour, I'm coming back with an arrest warrant for failure to comply with an officer." I laughed at this statement.

"You're not a police officer, Hiiragi-san." Her vein moved. Okay, she's mad. Heh.

"Maybe not Tamura-san, but I still have the power to throw your yuri-drawing ass in jail."

Oh, she just had to bring that up.

She got up, retrieved her helmet, and began walking towards the door. I just now realized that her armor is pretty beefy...she could probably walk through a killzone with nothing but a scratch. The black armor plating was overlaid with red armor plating, and all of it together looked like i weighed at _least _70 kilos.I don't want to get in her way...

She turned back to me.

"Remember; one hour." Then she was gone, out into the street, walking slowly towards her men, or whoever they were.

Well, this is quite a pickle I'm in. I quickly finished my drink, and by the time I left the small shop after paying for the drinks with money Kagami had left on the table, the...armed forces were gone.

There still wasn't any traffic, as it wasn't even 5 A.M. yet, so I dashed across the street and to the apartment, grabbing my phone from the nightstand after kissing Patty on the cheek, and slipped out onto the balcony.

It rang and rang, before finally she picked up with her usual tired 'Helloo?'.

"Konata, it's Hiyori. Kagami Hiiragi kind of interrogated me and she has your phone number. I don't know what that means, but it might be really bad. I'm sorry, but she was tracking me or something. Just...stay safe."

She laughed, uncharacteristically...I think.

"Don't worry about it. If she's even half as crazy as her sister was, she'll come after me, and get her stupid ass killed in the process. I gotta go Hiyorin, talk to me later."

I then proceeded to text her number to Kagami, who immediately sent me a message back.

It read "Stay safe? My, my, conflicting loyalties. But I guess she's your friend, still, so I can't blame you for that. Wait, yes I can. You're totally correct, this is very bad...for her. We've got _lasers_.

XOXO

Major Hiiragi Kagami

P.S: _Lasers._".

I sighed.

"Damnit."

/Breaking the fabric of space and time, in order to transcend the laws of reality is only recommended if one or both parties contains a member with lilac-colored hair.

/...Well, does it count for Hiiragi-sama?

/With any luck, it will. When the time comes, we will break all limits imposed upon us and crush the enemy with impunity, with the help of our deity.

/We still need to locate the artifact. It could be anywhere; my money is on the enemy keeping it safe.

/Then find it, and kill anyone who gets in your way.

"Hiiragi-san?" The figure hunched over wearing a blood-stained sailor fuku couldn't be anyone else, I'm assuming, but it's best to be nice...for now. After all, an unsuspecting enemy is the best kind, right?

She looked around for the source of the voice, her face serene, but as her eyes landed on mine, her face turned into a mask of anguish and hatred.

"_YOUUUUUU!" _She jumped at me, but froze mid-lunge.

"...You're not Konata..." Ah, the resemblance must be great, then. Not sure if that's a bad thing.

I walked over to where she was still hanging slightly above me, and sat down, cross-legged, before rising to meet her at eye level.

"I'm Kanata, her mother. I'm going to assume that you're Hiiragi Tsukasa, judging from your outfit."

She flipped upright, sitting down as well, but giving me a cross look.

"Who told you that?" Okay, one eye is drooping, and we're dead; she's as crazy as they say. Good thing I enacted a contingency plan before I came to Madame Madness herself. Actually, either way, it'll be helpful.

"Your mother and older sisters, as well as the telltale indicator that you're wearing a school uniform that is drenched in blood that is unlikely to be yours."

She giggled, squeezing her skirt, and sure enough, blood trickled out, coating her hand.

"Yeah, I know I could wear anything, but I like to wear this. Reminds me of how _I changed the world_."

Oh yeah, you changed it all right. That's why I'm probably going to beat the crazy out of you in a minute here. _No one _corrupts my daughter...well, except Soujiro, but that's different. _My daughter is not a murderer_. A pervert, probably, after living with him for 19-odd years, but it took a special kind of evil to make someone kill another...right?

I frowned outwardly, smoothing out the creases on my sundress, careful to not come into contact with the blood-soaked garments clinging to her loosely. We were seated quite close together, and I could clearly see that her left eye was lolling to the side, even as the right eye stared at me intently.. Creepy.

"Yes, I came to you to ask you about that time...well, for you, I guess it was the last few days of your life. I'm quite curious, you see." Curious is one word you could use to describe it. Livid is another. Boiling with rage would be three words, but it would also aptly describe my feelings at the present time.

Good thing I'm quite adept at hiding my feelings.

She tipped her head to one side, still playing with her bloodied skirt.

"Sure, what do you want to know? I mean, it was a pretty ingenious plan, and we did think it out pretty carefully. Your daughter helped me arrange the most important part, in fact. I bet you didn't know that, huh?"

I tensed up, not wanting to hear her lies; I was quite close to punching her right square in her droopy eye, before she started talking again. But now it was with a different tone of voice entirely. Almost like a different person. I paused, not moving just yet.

"It was great, really. Those dumb fuckers never saw it coming. We went to a think-tank on the waterfront near where Konata hung out with phreakers. We got poison gas from the scientists. I had them at gunpoint, they had to acquiesce; to test it, she locked them in a room and pumped the stuff in there. We watched them die slowly, in agony. I laughed with glee, but I always knew that Konata wasn't truly feeling the fun.

I knew, so I subverted her anyways. I forced her, in subtle ways, to go along with it anyways. Right when we started, she was hesitant. She looked in those kids' eyes', and she saw fear. She was afraid too, but with just a subtle nod from me, she did it anyways. Out of fear of death, from me. She didn't have the guts to stand up to me right away; if she had, none of this would've happened. Since she didn't want to kill me, she killed _for _me. It was a beautiful thing, really. We had to have shot a hundred students before she attacked me.

It was probably two hours in, right near the end. We scuffled in the hallway, she tried to shoot me, I her. We both lost our guns, my grenade brought down the ceiling. She escaped, and I knew I had lost. It was a victory for the masses, but I myself was done for. So I didn't care anymore, and when I tried to bite a soldier, they gunned me down.

My death was painless, a bullet through the brain. I was dead before I hit the ground.

Your daughter won't have that luxury."

She ended her speech, her head coming back to straight, a smile forming on her face that revealed teeth that were stained by blood, and possibly other things. Of course, as her appearance could be anything, she was the most vile thing possible.

I'd had enough.

I exhaled deeply, reaching up to itch a non-existent itch on the back of my neck.

I looked her in the eyes, and changed my expression to what I was really feeling. It took her by surprise.

"I hate everything about you. You were a conniving, selfish, demented, evil person in life, and you are even more so in death. You made my daughter do terrible things, and that by itself would make me never be able to forgive you. But you went so much farther, and probably knowingly, set these events in motion, causing what may well be the death of millions. You got off relatively easy, too; you didn't even feel pain when you died. But I know that you can feel pain in death. I think I may have to make up for lost time."

But still I didn't move; I wanted to gauge her reaction, even as my hands balled into fists behind my back.

She leaned back and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

"You're a riot, Izumi-san! You want to fight me? That's new! You are just an absolute _riot_, you know that?"

I looked up for a split second, looking at those who had amassed behind her while we were talking. Her victims. They looked at me, completely silent, waiting for me to make the first move.

That had been my plan. I talked to her victims, told them I knew where she was, and was going for revenge. We all got together, and I formed this plan, which we are all following.

I would make the first punch, at which point they would join the fight as one, and together we would make her life a living hell. But we're all , it works.

I smirked at her, bringing a bit of confusion to her face.

"No, Tsukasa-san, I _am _the riot." And with that, I drew back my fist and hit her right in the face, delighting as I heard her nose crack and break. Wow, that's satisfying, even though we're dead!

Then started the war call from her victims. I backed off, deciding to let them get their fill.

Tsukasa screamed, and I her things snap and break more than a few times. Hearing what they had to say as they fought over her scraps, literally, was interesting as well.

"Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice, shame on me!" That came from a girl that was conveniently wearing a nametag. Rachel Scott. Interesting.

"You ruined any chance we had at a life, a family! My dream was to find a guy and get married, have kids, be happy! You ruined it! But not, we get to ruin _you_ for as long as we want!" Oh, they're all wearing nametags. I get it now. That one was a girl by the name of Ayano Minegishi.

Though the beatdown, or rather, curb-stomp, was no where near finished, a figure crawled out of the crowd to sit next to me. He had vivid red hair, as vivid as my hair was blue. He sighed, setting his hands on either side as he crossed his legs.

"Thanks for leading us to her, Izumi-san. She's getting what she deserves, finally. The name's Kamiya, by the way." He was lacking the nametag the others possessed. Was he perhaps not a victim of...her machinations?

It must have showed on my face, because he chuckled.

"I lost my tag in there somewhere, not that it's too important now. I snapped her leg and shattered her pelvis, I'm content to leave the torture to the others." Actually, as we spoke, more arrived and pushed their way to the center, where her screams and cries were muffled by the sounds of movement.

These newcomers were different; instead of having no signs of their cause of death on them, they were mutilated by gunshot wounds, or blown apart, trailing limbs, or bloated and disgusting, most likely the effects of that gas Tsukasa had mentioned.

It was by preference that they were appearing like that, but to be beaten up by people whom you had seen dead on the ground must have been quite the harrowing experience. Also, it might need to be mentioned that these "bodies" have almost instant regeneration abilities, meaning that there was going to be dismemberment pretty soon.

As if on cue, I heard the most intense scream yet, and a thin, frail arm was held above the crowd for a split second, trickling blood onto the combatants, before it vanished among the throng of those taking revenge.

"So how long do you think this will last?" The red-haired boy was still watching intently, with his fingers drumming against his thigh.

I sighed, looking around. Besides the patch of road-and-curb that someone had generated, for a true "curbstomping" experience, it was still as white and featureless as ever.

"Time doesn't exist here, and no one is going to need to stop, so it could be awhile."

He nodded, before turning back to watch again. Now there was a wooden cross being erected; someone was building a crucifix. Oh, how lovely.

"Let's have nails! And hammers!" I heard another especially blood-curdling scream from the demented killer, and her blood-drenched clothes flew into the air, landing outside the large pulsating mass of revenge covering her.

Kamiya looked away quickly, having seen the blood-soaked panties. Or maybe he hadn't, and only seen the massive pool of blood that seemed to be constantly emanating from the garments. When I said clothes, I meant all of them.

"Please, no! You can't-" Her scream was cut off into a gurgle, and her shattered and broken form was lifted up onto the crucifix, before one hand was nailed into place by a very...rotund young man with a baby face.

She hung in our view, naked as the day she was born, but there was so much blood and chunks of her own flesh coating her that it was hard to make out anything. She tried to scream, but someone had slit her throat and nothing but a loud gurgle occurred.

Now she hung from her arms, but they had been broken, so she hung at awkward angles, and even I had to wince from the sight.

She tried to kick at the crowd below her, but someone grabbed her leg and took an actual bite out of her leg, causing her to flail weakly. Even at this distance, maybe ten meters, I could see the portion missing.

Damn, they were pulling out all of the stops, just for her. She must feel pretty damn special. But was that guy really developing a taste for meat, or was this just a case of "do unto thee as thee hath done unto me"?...she didn't actually _eat _any of her victims...right? Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick.

Oh dear, the just nailed her feet to the cross as well. And now she's yelling; her throat must have healed up enough for that. A shame; her voice is quite grating. I liked the gargling better.

"By putting me on the cross you're likening me to deities of old! You're making me a martyr! Even in death I rise above all of you infidels to spread my truth to those around us! Hear me! As the lord of the people, I will save everyone! Death is only the first ste-"

BANG.

A nice hole showed itself in the middle of her forehead, and all kinds of meat of various tints of red blew out the sides. Her head dropped down, and those who were carrying the cross stopped their torture to see just who had temporarily put a stop to their sweet, sweet revenge, and in essence, stopped the fun bus, for nicer terms.

Standing opposite of myself and Kamiya, a middle-aged man with grey hair and wearing business attire stood, holding a smoking revolver.

He looked at everyone in the crowd, who looked right back. He turned to walk away, speaking as he dissipated into the white.

"No daughter of mine will speak about gods and goddesses in such a way. As a shrine maiden, she should know better."

With that, he was gone, as though he were never here.

Wow, I'm going to have more to tell the Hiiragi's then I thought. Everyone's getting their revenge now, aren't they?

Looking down, I realized my dress was coated with a fine layer of...Tsukasa, I think. I hope that's who it is.

I need to change before I go back to the remnants of that idyllic family. Their tea is quite good...how do we taste when we're dead? I've never figured that out. It's a question best left unanswered, I suppose.

More to the point, now, that her catalyst has been dealt with, how am I going to help my daughter? Do I dare visit Soujiro...with so much..."transit" between life and death, I'm sure I could sneak in without too much trouble. But what do I say?

'Hi honey, I could've visited sooner, but didn't, you know, being dead is hard, I'm here to help our daughter, but it's good to see you too, okay, gotta go now.'

Not going to happen...I wish this had just never happened in the first place, and I'd just be able to wait until they got old, died happy, and we could be a happy family in death, forever.

Wishing doesn't make things come true, unfortunately.

**A/N: Herp, things happened! More buildup to their next skirmish, and that needed bit from Kanata's point of view. Originally she was going to do all the nasty herself, but then I realized that not **_**everyone **_**in this story is a raving lunatic, so I brought in her victims, because hey, everyone's dead, right?**

**There's also a reason why everytime lasers get mentioned, someone says "**_**Lasers**_**." in italics. Don't forget, Kagami's got her special forces which haven't seen combat yet **_**and**_** the opposite side also has no idea what's coming. Which is bad. For everyone involved. **

**Ooooh, and I begin to mention a sub-plot which sounds like it makes no damn sense!...just like everything else, so you're not allowed to be surprised at this point.**


	10. X

Calamity Plus One

X

**A/N: Well, something happened in my life that comes dangerously close to the fiction I write, and I find it more intriguing than frightening, though to most people it would definitely be considered as such. **

**Long story short, a good friend of mine told someone he was planning on shooting up the school. He's had a previous set of charges for distributing child pornography and is not exactly the sanest person around. He was apparently pulled out of school early today by the police, and presumably arrested.**

**If you want to talk with me more about it, feel free to PM me. **

Dank, dim, smelling of blood, bloodlust, and excitement; the tunnel leading up to the entrance was teeming with activity. Of course, this morning marked the beginning of the next phase of the plan. Our forces had reorganized, more of our number had been readied for battle,, and we were making a second push in the city, this time our goal was to secure a perimeter around the municipal buildings in the northern section of the Waterfront. If successful, this offensive would cause the western section of Waterfront to be completely cut off from the rest of the city, leaving it easy pickings for us. Plus, there was something of utmost importance that could possibly be held within that area...

I stood up to the podium set in front of the exit ramp, adjusting my beret and pushing my soft, gorgeous, pink hair out of my eyes. Even when going to war, I'm beautiful as ever.

The low light did not allow me to look back at any one face, but I felt the power of all of their eyes on me. I spoke into a microphone; speakers stolen from businesses had been wired up to a intercom, allowing my voice to carry to all of the foot soldiers participating in the operation, even if they were a kilometer away; a 10 meter wide tunnel needs to be quite long to fit upwards of 8,500 fully armed individuals.

"This morning is quiet and pristine, for those on the outside. They do not know the pain and suffering we are about to bring crashing down upon them! For each and every person here in front of me, I request that you personally end the lives of _at least _four men, woman, and children, to make them pay for the losses we have suffered.

But each blow the enemy strikes against us which does not strike us down only serves to make us stronger; those of you fighting today are stronger than you were even a few days ago. You have the opportunity today to prove yourself in our righteous war once again. The enemy is still weak and unprepared for the onslaught we have unleashed against them.

We will press the advantage. Today, your goal is to slice through the heart of the city, and establish a foothold in Waterfront, while maintaining safe routes back to our staging locations here, and underneath the Grand Stadium.

I will be, as always, coordinating our forces for maximum efficiency. Good luck to all of you, and it is my sincere hope that as many of you live to see another day as possible, if only so you may continue to sow fear and terror into those who sought to destroy us. We have the upper hand, and with it, we will choke the life out of the enemy with it.

Good luck."

With that, two of my aides lifted the podium out of the way, I tipped my hat, bowed, and walked to the side of the tunnel, into an office that served as a communications node; it was full of short-range radios, CV radios, and signal boosters.

Outside the office, the dull roar of antsy soldiers grew louder, and louder still.

By the time I thought my ears would pop, even behind a closed door, I heard the loud clang of the exit ramp being engaged. It was time for he day's events to begin.

With a war cry that would scare the Persians with their ferocity and fanatical devotion, they surged forward, their footsteps reverberating throughout the tunnel, drowning out their voices and yells. As they filed past as one black mass of ever-expanding plague, bits of sunlight could be seen as this segment of our forces squeezed out of a single "abandoned" subway station.

Before they had even finished deploying into the controlled section of the city, I had already began my work.

Sitting down into my personal chair, opening a laptop, and picking up my personal radio to the leader of the Bombardment teams, I began issuing locations and coordinates.

We had managed to discover the method that news helicopters' cameras were seen from the news studios, and had piggybacked onto their system, giving me a partial bird's eye view of the city. It was quite useful.

"First barrage of the day, make it count. All teams, I repeat, all teams, fire on the southbound highway lanes in between the exits for Commercial and Waterfront. Afterwards, do the same for northbound, between the exits for Timon and Waterfront."

It had taken 3 days to disassemble the mortars and howitzers, move them, and rebuild them in similarly concealed locations.

The press must have been shitting themselves; the hard point closest to the enemy was no more than a block away from TBS Headquarters.

As expected, no sooner had the highway been hit, there was a news bird flying by that managed to capture the scene.

It was glorious; 8 A.M., it had been packed with traffic of those going to work, and those working late coming home. They never made it. The combined firepower of 31 mortar teams and 3 American-made howitzers leveled a good portion of the stretch, the flaming husks of ruined vehicles littering both the roadway that remained standing, and the ground beneath the elevated roadway. People were trying to get out of their cars, trying to run, but I heard a command from another leader emanate from one of the CV radios; the one in charge of sowing subtle, or maybe not so subtle, doubt in the enemy.

"Kill those trying to flee." Onscreen, one who had been zoomed in on by the news bird dropped, their head reduced to meaty mush. Of course we had snipers watching our operational area; upwards of a hundred were already in position.

"Foot soldiers have breached the border." That was an important milestone in this operation; the police had set up another border where they had been holding for the past few days. They had thought it to be secure, and we were unsure of how much we would lose by taking it. As it turns out, very little. Which meant that it was time to issue the support unit meant to supplant the infantry. One hour in, and we were already bringing in our heavy weapons. It was almost suspicious, how easy the enemy was falling to us. In the reports I was hearing, the military commander seemed conveniently absent.

"Oh my god, what the-" Harsh static issued from one of the radios, forcing me to shut it off.

What the hell?

"It's taking everything we-" Another dead signal. This was not good.

Another voice began to play through the radios along the wall, but it was heavily distorted and quite menacing, obviously not one of ours.

"We will fight until you are all dead. We take your petty attacks in stride, and toss you aside like the petty mongrels you are."

Well, this sucks. Luckily, I'm still beautiful!

/Our hubris may kill us.

/1 You worry too much. Good thing Whip and Warrior are heading out now.

/It might be too little, too late.

/1 With that? Unless they've tamed Cthulhu _and _Godzilla, we'll prevail.

The mechanic seemed reluctant to let me climb the mechanical beast. He brandished his wrench at me, trying to look tough, but I just pointed to the guns strapped to my thighs.

"If you even so much as scratch the paint...sir..." I pinched the bridge of my nose, putting my hands on the hood of the repaired and _highly _modified ZPU. The doors had been welded shut and reinforced with some weird "Dragon Plate" armor that the Americans had sent to us, apparently. The rear portion was also modified to carry ammo more efficiently, with a large gravity-fed container holding thousands of rounds that were fed into the rotating-belt; the round would clip into the continuous belt, it would rise up to the gun itself, be fired, and the empty belt would come back down to pick up another round.

It was pretty smart, I'd say, and a really nice fit for the new turret that was installed onto the roof. It had been moved farther forward, and was now enclosed, rather than open, giving the truck the feel of a much heavier vehicle than it really was. The only downside was that the entrance into the cab was now through a flip-up hatch on the roof, making it hard to exit quickly.

To remedy that, there were emergency, quick-release bolts on the doors, which would cause them to simply drop off the vehicle in times of need.

They were hopefully unneeded, however. This big baddie is now superior in both offensive and defensive power, and we're going to plow a path of death straight through to the end of our attack, before doubling back and helping to mop up.

Oh yeah, there was a plow now, too. Steel spikes and an angled front, it would provide a ram through anything stupid enough to get in our way.

It was untested, but we're probably going to find out one way or the other how it works at _some _point today.

I Hopped on the roof, opening the hatch, only to be greeted by Warrior pulling the radio all away across the cab, shouting into it repeatedly.

"Hothead, what's your status? Damnit. BlackWing, what are you seeing? Rapid, give me a sitrep!"

I lowered myself into the vehicle, sitting down in the driver seat and closing the hatch above me. Warrior leaned back into the gunner seat, handing off the radio to me.

"Something's taking out our troops, and fast. We have to get our asses on the frontlines, _now._" She was a bitch, but I could see that she was actually worried about those under our command, though probably for the wrong reasons.

"Alright, let's get going then." She closed the divider between the cab and the turret, climbing into the _actual _gunner seat; the one underneath was a holdover from when it was an open-air affair.

I switched a few of the channels on the radio, hearing gunshots and...something else, before finding someone who wasn't dead yet.

"Gabber, what the hell is going on?!"

Just as the static seemed permanent, and I reached for the ignition to the ZPU, she replied with clarity, perhaps too much.

"Oof! There's some kind of tough fuckers that popped up after we started moving for the university. They came out of a warehouse on a side street and ran right through us, tearing us apart. Three squads are down, and they're now just making mayhem among us; anyone whose been able to hit one is down or dead, and there's more of the second than the first. The worst part is only one of them has fired back on us; they've been using blades built into their armor.

But I'm _pretty _sure that they've got lasers.

Oh shit! Quickie just killed one! Hunting shotgun to the back of the helmet! Okay, they're human, and they're not invincible...but if you could hurry up and get here, that would be nice! Shit, INCOMING!"

Back to static, but Gabber wasn't just some grunt; she was the leader of the craziest grunts of all; 2 EM, the CQC unit that had formed out of the remains of some units that died in the initial attack. They use shotguns mostly, and are easily some of the craziest sane ones here. They just love the thrill of the kill...thankfully I had Yutaka pulled from one of the units and placed with Akira before they went back into the grinder...I mean, battle.

I started up the engine, hearing it rumble and feeling the faint shudder of the chassis underneath all that armor and whatnot; it felt good.

"Alright, we're off! We have a new target at the end of our first route! There's some kind of military armored units slicing them up in front of the uni! We'll teach 'em..."

Warrior responded back, or rather finished my sentence, with great enthusiasm.

"How do you think they like .50 cal face stew?" Ahhh yes, another thing the mechanic mentioned. Not only could we go longer, we could hit harder. The difference between .30 cal and .50 cal was actually quite significant; we would actually be saving ammo, numbers-wise, because of the slower rate of fire, but this would also absolutely decimate infantry and unarmored vehicles, and would even do a pretty good job of puncturing thin armored shit, too.

Talk about utility.

I turned the lumbering truck onto the main road, which ran all the way across the city. About 2 kilometers in front of me, I could see the tail end of our forces, still rushing forward to fight.

I switched radio channels once again, bringing up the command channel reserved for myself and Miyuki-chan.

"This is Raiden Zero, I'd recommend all ground units on the main road to move to the sides, we'll need to pass through in T minus 20 seconds. We're needed elsewhere to kick some ass, so if you please, stay on the sidewalks, boys and girls."

Warrior snickered, but I ignored her. I'm going to get my fun somehow, because right about now, I'm getting kind of fed up with killing people. I'll do it to survive, but I'm not doing it for any other reason. But I guess there isn't any other reason right now, anyways. Damn you, Catch 22!

Almost as if on cue...wait...yeah, a nice sizable gap opened in the crowd as the masses moved to the sidewalk, presumably having been ordered to do so by all squad, platoon, and division leader. We may be killers on the hunt, but we're still _very _organized. Almost like a real army, but with a lot more religious freedom, raping of the enemies' women...wait, not even any more than...okay, just more religious freedom.

"Let's kick it." I stomped on the accelerator, feeling the torque rattle the whole truck, but it held and we shot off like a slow, monstrous rocket.

It was pinning the needle at 90 km/h, but that was more than enough. The crowd got bigger in the small window that I was looking through every second, and as we started to zip through the lines of our troops on both sides, I heard a resounding roar of approval, or maybe just another warcry to stir up the morale. Either way, it made me feel pretty good about myself.

This was the youth, and though it wasn't initially their fault for this whole mess, when they were scapegoated by the general public, they set aside the myriad of differences that existed among us and banded together to form a force that not only understood each other, but could also fight for each other, and actually win.

The public is actually the main reason this fighting force actually exists. If we hadn't been shipped out of the city into a ghetto just for the youth, the hate for the older adults wouldn't have risen to such a high level, and this whole catastrophe would have been averted.

Of course, it's happening now, and I don't intend to be on the losing side. Strength in numbers, and there's no bigger pool of able forces than us. We are the next generation of Japan. Too bad we are going to have to take it from the cold, dead hands of our predecessors, instead of the age-old method of being handed the reins slowly.

Regardless, it is going to be a hard-fought battle...what the hell are those?

"Enemy hostiles, among friendlies, 12 o'clock!" The new FOOM, FOOM, FOOM of the heavy machine gun started, and some of the rounds skipped and clipped these bright red armor-wearing soldiers, that were carrying some unfamiliar-looking rifles.

These things had their backs turned to us, attacking our forces from behind, and with truck's brakes not doing much to stop the 5-tonne behemoth, we rode straight into the mysterious enemies.

Wow, those spike do their job.

Stomping on the brakes, we started skidding, and I cut the wheel all the way to the left, allowing us to skid to a stop without impaling our retreating forces on the front plow.

Stopping with a lurch, I radio'd the nearest squad.

"Looks like they'll make fine kebabs, guys. How many of these guys were there, anyways?"

A high-pitched voice came on; male or female, I couldn't quite tell. Not judging, though.

"About a dozen, but they were eating us up until you ran them through. Here, we'll get them off the front so you can hit more smoothly." Watching from my armored hole, I watched a dozen tightly-clothed people run up in front of the truck, pulling off pieces of armor and body parts from the front. The steel spikes were approximately 1 meter long; long enough to quite literally rip through anyone _not _wearing that special armor, I bet.

"Commander, one of these guy's carbines' is intact, and there are some odd cylinders intact as well. Do you want them?" I looked around, realizing I only had my pistols in the cab. Yeah, a rifle would be great.

"Sure, I'll open the hatch." A long, silver weapon was lowered carefully in through the roof, and several cylinders of the same silvery hue, about 20 centimeters in length, were lowered in as well.

FOOM FOOM FOOM.

The turret fired overhead, and out of the view shield, the "normal" military was showing up; a helicopter had attempted to drop in infantry, but that big nasty on the roof had hit one of its' propellers, causing a drop in altitude, forcing it to retreat. I quickly closed the hatch, thanking the squad leader before putting the ZPU in 1st.

Turning the wheel to the right, I managed to straighten out and drive over the bodies of the skirmish witnessed only moments ago. Most of the lumps were squashed by the sheer weight, but some held fast. Shit, that's some hard stuff right there.

Those guys were trouble, that's for sure.

Taking up the radio once again, I called for another gap to allow us to pass through. Once in front of the main force, we saw the destruction wrought by the artillery; the highway that cut through the center of the district was just absolutely destroyed. Large sections of concrete laid in the street, the off-ramp had been obliviated entirely, and at the end of the intersection that ran beneath the ramp, our target lay in sight.

The University of Tokyo was a highly prestigious school, but I didn't really give a damn about that. It's location was more important. By securing this entire line, while our sister force secured a line that ran in a 45 degree angle from us, we were cutting off a portion of the city, and making it much easier for us to move forward with our attack on the University itself. Warrior's intel network had revealed a prototype ultra wide-bore laser weapon in development there; if used against us, it could be the end of us. That type of destruction was immense, and caused none of the associated ill effects of using something of the same scale of power; mainly, nuclear weapons.

The prototype was either going to be destroyed, or stolen by our forces.

Personally, I'm going to make sure it's destroyed, though. I know how easy it is to just click the button and know people are dying, but it's not as easy when it's a city of millions that you're talking about.

FOOM FOOM FOOM

"Target in sight!"

With those three words, the battle that would last the remainder of the day commenced. What a cluster of madness it would turn out to be. Well, madder than usual. But don't worry; we're all mad here.

/So close, and yet so far. I can almost _smell _the fear of those who witness the rise.

/1 If this doesn't work, a lot of people will die.

/Like they haven't already? It will work, and we will succeed. If we do not, Hell awaits us.

/1 Yes, indeed, but Divine intervention may not be the answer...

/It is the only answer, the only way that we shall guarantee that our leader will show no mercy to our enemies.

/1 But I thought that her Season will be over...in the Abyss for all time

/It will, but our world will be Painted with her Blood, and we will Reign alongside. Her sacrifice will be the Ultimate, but it shall not be in vain. It shall bring about the End of Days, the beginning of a New Order...and no worldly force will stand in our way. God himself will hate us for what we've done.

**A/N: Bam, Alice in Wonderland lines comin' at ya! Okay, the last portion is important too, but anyone who spots all of the reasons behind the capitalized letters is awesome. Well, other than the fact that I always capitalize "the End of Days", "Hell", and "Divine" when used in such context. **

**I've been really cranking out the updated this week, hopefully, I'll be able to slow down a bit and really think about how this is going to go.**


	11. XI

Calamity Plus One

X:I

**A/N: It's been over a month since my last update, and I apologize for that. Hopefully this chapter is of a higher caliber than the last few, which, in my opinion, could've been better, but I'll consider edits later on. This chapter may be a bit long, but I realized I needed to connect a few of the characters in various ways. Some characters have been out of the limelight for a bit. This will rectify most of that. This also makes this story my longest to date. So yay for that, too.**

It's a shame they had to close the shades. The rooms had such an...enclosed, confining feeling to them without the blinds open, revealing the outside world to us stuck inside. When I asked my nurse about it, she claimed it was to protect us, and that those bad people who were attacking the city were trying to get closer to us.

Why would bad people try to hurt us? I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just alive, and recovering...though I've been recovering for a long time, and the doctor said I may never get better.

That's the worst part; I'm not sick, or dumb, I just can't remember anything. I was injured, and I just woke up here with my mouth feeling like it had been ripped apart. I could remember my name, and my age, and that a friend of mine was on the bed next to me,

Misao Kusakabe. I was 17 when I had woke up here. I'm almost 23 now, and I'm still not any better. My friend Kagami Hiiragi was on the bed next to me, but by the time I could speak and walk and talk again, she was gone.

She had gotten better, and probably had a loving family...I can't even remember if I had one of those, somewhere. I felt like I didn't, though. I think I lived in the place where the bad people are now. I'm not sure though...

"Misao-nee-sama!" It's ten o'clock already? It's hard to tell time without the sun there to help. The little boy was wheeled into the room by his nurse, Mai-san, who picked him up and set him on my lap. I had been lounging in my favorite chair, next to the window. Or, it had been my favorite chair. Actually, I think Mai-san might be younger than me...

"So how's your day so far Misao-sensei?" Being such a little bundle of joy, even without the use of his legs, little Ryu turned around to look at me head-on. His hair was even starting to grow back in the places where he had been hit by splintered metal about a year ago.

"It's been decent; I'm really just thinking about how they had to put the metal shades down...I guess I was just too used to the sun being right there, and now that it's not, I feel kind of lonely."

The innocent little guy's mouth opened in surprise. He knew what it was like to be alone, more than I do...or did, I hope.

When they first brought him into the hospital, I had been in the reception area, helping a nurse push a cart of paperwork to another part of the building.

I had stopped doing that and followed the ambulance crew that rushed him in on a gurney. At first, I couldn't even tell it was a person.

His loneliness almost killed him; he'd been playing by himself in the area near where the Wall was being finished, and a section of the scaffolding supporting a section that needed to be lifted into place shattered because of something those bad people did, and the sharp metal hit him in a lot of places.

I had held his hand while they removed the metal, and we became friends because of that. He won't be able to walk again, but he still insists on visiting me every day at 10 o'clock and just enjoying being around each other. He doesn't like being lonely in the mornings...I haven't pushed the issue, as I can only imagine why that is.

I enjoy it as well, as it reminds me that I may not have to ever get better myself, as long as I can make other people feel better, or even just give them a little bit of happiness that I don't think I can find for myself.

I'm broken, but that doesn't mean I can't help fix others.

"Is the sun your friend too, nee-sama?" I thought about it, and while I was thinking, I thought I could hear some booming sounds off in the distance, outside the metal wall separating us from the view of the outside from the 27th floor.

I laughed.

"I suppose the sun is my friend. He greets me every day when I wake up, and he stays with me until he has to sleep, but always makes sure to say goodbye in a beautiful way."

Ryu nodded on my lap, grabbing my wrists so he didn't fall.

"Do you have any other friends, nee-sama?" I frowned. He had never asked this, and this question scared me. Not because of what it meant, but because of what it didn't mean to me. I could remember the one friend, Kagami Hiiragi. She stood out in my mind, but everything else was just a black veil, so I can't see any of them. I almost want to say I had a really good friend, but she died right before I forgot everything. If I did have a friend die then, I feel bad for her. She probably didn't do anything to deserve to die.

I don't think I'd be friends with anyone who kills people. That sounds like a mean type of person. Well, I guess someone who only kills the bad people who are trying to kill us wouldn't be so bad...but that's still killing people, and I don't really like to think about that.

Another boom entered through the wall, louder this time. Ryu was paying no attention to it, happily chattering away about something or other, but the sounds that made it through the wall worried me.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I called the number without hesitation, listening to it ring, and rebound around in the empty passenger hold of the APC.

She finally picked up, apparently too busy to have looked at the number.

"Sekine cut it out!" Sekine? Who is that? No worries, it doesn't matter. The sound of an engine stopping could be heard.

Finally, she put the phone to her mouth.

"Hello?"

I grinned. I looked at the laptop screen next to me, which had began to triangulate her position.

"Nice to finally talk to you again, Izumi-_san._" The sharp intake of breath was unmistakable. I heard something metallic hit something else in the background, then gunfire in the distance.

"Hiiragi-san...how nice of you to, er...call...Is there anything you wanted in particular, or are you just trying to play cat and mouse?" Her voice still had the same carefree tone to it...is she not affected by what she's done? That's ridiculous; and they call _me _a monster.

"Nothing in particular, just wanted to get inside my adversaries' heads before I crush your skulls into oblivion underneath my boot. So, what's your kill count up to now? I think I've personally put an end to a couple hundred of your pitiful excuse of foot soldiers."

She laughed. Laughed _out loud_. I didn't know if it were towards me or not, but it pissed me off. But her tone of voice when she began talking again was much harder, colder, sounded almost like a different person.

"I don't kill people on most days. Personally, I've pulled the trigger on about twenty people...excluding that little trip with your sister...which I regret immensely."

Her, regretful? Don't make me laugh.

The triangulation was almost done, and at this point, I could call in a carpet bomb and get rid of her, but I wanted to make this one personal.

"Yes, the catalyst for all this bullshit. You sure did have a way of generating a shitstorm. Not to mention putting me in traction for 14 months. I can't even have kids anymore, you know that? You fuckers ruined my life, so now I get to ruin yours. Goodbye, Izumi."

The triangulation was complete. They were in a spot underneath two wrecked sections of the overpass that had just collapsed about half an hour ago. There was still a clear shot for mortars.

I grabbed a firing control radio from the glove box, turning it on.

"This is Hiiragi, I want all active mortar teams to hit one spot. Coordinates are thirty five degrees, forty one minutes, twenty three seconds North, one thirty nine degrees, forty one minutes, thirty one seconds East. I repeat, all active teams hammer this spot. Any rockets in the vicinity should also attempt to get a bearing on that location, and to fire at will."

I smiled. Now we wait to hear of the deaths of our greatest enemies. But who exactly was this Sekine person? Most likely a codename or something...nothing to worry myself about. If she was with Izumi, then she'd be just as helpless as the blue bitch.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I started the engine as soon as she ended the call. The fact that the _leader of the enemy forces _has my phone number doesn't bode well for me, but I think she's going crazy too, so she most likely won't do anything to hurt dad...she just wants me.

I had driven about ten meters towards the objective when the world started to blow right the hell up all around us.

"Mortars!" Warrior, whom I had called by her real name when I saw who was calling, called out. She was in the armored turret, and quickly ducked down as I mashed the gas pedal.

The beast lurched forward, hitting craters from the rain of explosives coming seemingly out of nowhere.

I saw one land on the hood and explode, sending a wave of shrapnel into the thick steel covering most of the windshield. It didn't affect my vision, but it was still quite nerve-wracking. Sections of the overpass that had partially blocked our view above us began to fall under the onslaught of explosive rain.

I couldn't see anything, just an endless cascade of rubble, and could feel chunks of concrete slam into the ZPU as I fishtailed in the mixture of rock dust and wet grass. hearing the tires slipping, I eased up on the gas for a second, but once I caught the rocks, I stomped on it again, sending us careening through the maelstrom. Less small pieces were falling now, but showed the massive chunks from far above coming to flatten us at exactly nine point eight one meters per second squared.

I don't want to die like this. She's not going to get the upper hand on us. Not today.

I heard the turret start up again, Warrior no doubt shooting at the larger chunks. We were sliding through the myraid mountains of pebbles and chunks of concrete, asphalt, and anything else from the above overpass.

An entire strip of the median landed in front of us, causing us to slam into it, jarring us to a halt. My head slammed into the steering wheel, causing my forehead to explode in pain.

Every sound became a physical strike of pain, but through it, I heard the screaming of Warrior, and still kept enough sense to work the clutch to put the vehicle in reverse, and hit the gas again. My head was still on the wheel however, and we ended up skidding around to face where we had been coming from.

A hole in the rubble! It was still falling, and could very well seal up before we got there, but I had to try.

:"Shoot straight ahead! I think that's a way out!" I called out to her, and almost as if magic, a massive section of the freeway broke free from the edge of the hole, but was separated by the heavy machine gun rounds. Or maybe we were just lucky and it broke apart to avoid us on our own.

As we raced for the small pocket of bleak gray light, I could see the whole ceiling coming ever closer to us. The whole structure was caving in on itself, and we were still in it.

Just as I heard the massive grinding sound of the under sections of scrape the turret, we burst out of into the light.

We had been on the second story in comparison to the surrounding streets, above a drainage ditch that separated the streets that were underneath the highway.

I gasped as I felt us hang in the air, suspended above the ditch.

We sprang forward as we fell, the engine suddenly revving to the max as the tires lost traction with everything of substance.

The return to the ground was less than graceful. The back tires didn't make it, but the sheer force of the landing caused the whole vehicle to bounce against its' anti-mine plating, even with all of its' weight in armor, and land in the street. I was prepared this time, using my hands to prevent another quick trip into the steering wheel, but I had the pedal still in the floor, causing us to spin out as I jerked the wheel to the right

I stopped the truck as quickly as possible, grabbing the radio as Warrior coughed in the background.

"I think I'm bleeding...holy shit Izumi, nice driving. Just what the hell was that?"

I was in the middle of finding out, so I just waved her away, before putting my hand to my forehead. My hand quickly became warm and sticky. Blood.

"Akira, this is Whip. Just what the hell hit the overpass? We almost fucking died. I thought it was a mortar strike at first...did more of those tank soldiers show up?"

The radio crackled with static for what seemed like an eternity before the clipped voice of the sniper to come back through the receiver.

"Quite perceptive, Izumi-san. It was indeed a mortar strike, but not from friendlies. Numerous buildings closer to the waterfront revealed howitzers and heavy artillery, and fired on the overpass. The colors of the emplacements implies that it is not standard military design. In addition, under normal circumstances, seven mortars or howizters would not be sufficient to destroy a section of a structure as reinforced as the overpass.

These weapons are quite powerful."

He didn't seem to be done talking, but a second later, a gunshot echoed out of the speaker, and outside of the vehicle.

"I have just eliminated a gunship pilot who was circling around for another run at our forces...the heli is listing violently, it might crash at the university...wait, no, it just hit the side of the hospital. I'd put that down as perhaps four dozen injured enemies killed, or MIA."

"Whatever, just get your guys working on taking out those emplacements while we're still out and about. We were underneath the overpass when that hit. The rover's still in decent shape, the new armour sure did save our asses. I'll contact you again when I'm in range of the university."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Warrior laughed. I turned around to where she was leaning forward in her gunner's seat. She was pointing out of the section of the windshield that wasn't covered in armor plating.

I followed her finger.

At the end of the street was a brutal fight going on, in front of a familiar building. The red armor plating of those behemoths were slugging it out against a mob of our infantry, right on the steps of...the university.

The military seemed to be holding out against our superior numbers as well, and as I restarted the engine, the turret begin cranking towards the front, and began firing in earnest at those in red whom were plaguing us as of late.

I saw an armored piercing round _bounce off _of one of these guys, and it seemed to only make him mad.

We needed a bigger boomstick. I picked up the radio as the soldier picked up a telephone pole with one hand. For kami's sake, what are these things? Good thing we never showed our hands fully. Well, until now.

"Wake up the Dragon, she's needed downtown."

.../Would it ever be once even thought of by the others that they're walking into a trap?

...Of course not. Besides, it's not really a trap. We're not killing them. Well, not personally.

.../This still doesn't feel right. Will it really be victory if everyone is dead?

...Death will be that much sweeter. If you're saying you don't want to live to say the day, I'll just kill you now.

.../No, that's not what I meant. Come on, we need to get back to the squad. Can't have anyone suspecting foul play.

...That's the spirit.

In an instant, everything changed.

The sounds outside grew louder, and louder, and louder. It changed in pitch to a high whine, just before the wall was ripped to shreds. It happened too quick for me to see..

I was still sitting at my seat, but as something massive sheared down the wall, I was greeted to the grey sunlight, and a war going on right outside.

With my hands still on Ryu's legs, I watched as a helicopter flew off into the distance, only to be hit by something from above, burst into flames, and fall to the streets below. The screams, the noises, everything.

It was too much.

I felt something drip onto my hands.

I looked down, and my blood ran cold.

On my lap, was Ryu. But he was missing something. His head. Gone.

Blood was all over his shirt, and his body was going limp. Time itself seemed to dilate, as I felt the beginnings of blood on my face. It was warm.

Oh my god.

What...no...why? This isn't fair. This isn't fair! I've never done anything wrong, and now...everything is falling apart.

Standing up, I could feel that I was at the edge of the building.

Do I jump? Do I even have something to live for now? No. If I did, I would just be disgracing...Ryu...gone in an instant. I'd never hear his voice again. The sweet little boy who had been a moment of happiness among the grey bleakness of the medical facility.

I took a step back from the edge, but as I did, I noticed I couldn't hear anything. My vision was going black on the edges. I felt dizzy.

I was laying down, feeling every vibration of the stretcher as I was rolled down the hallway. Still no sound. I had been on the ground, dead to the world, with his body still in my hands. When the nurses found me, they took the corpse out, and injected something into my leg. Everything was numb now.

Now I'm going somewhere, I don't know where. They're shouting, people are darting by my field of view as they run by.

Why is this happening?

A new voice in my head replied to myself in a clipped, cold way.

'It's your fault.' That voice was new. Why was it my fault? I don't remember...I wish I could remember.

'You do remember.'

...

...

...No. My eye twitched, as something insignificant switched on in my brain, bringing forth a lifetime of memories that weren't mine. They couldn't possibly be mine. They were too cruel, too mean to be mine. But they fit. I knew they did. I...she...had done these things.

I was part of the reason this is all happening. No.

No.

No.

This isn't my fault.

NO.

In a surge of strength, I lashed out at the restraints holding me down, nearly flipping the gurney. I was screaming, but I was still. Screaming that I was sorry, and that it shouldn't be this way. That I was wrong, and I deserved it. That retribution had been delivered unto me, and now I too was nothing more than a shell of what I had been previously.

I helped birth a homicidal girl. That was partially me. Her death was not even the end of it. So really, I was just as responsible for the death of that innocent little boy as whoever shot that helicopter. It was my fault. I could've prevented it.

Before I could continue announcing my dire sins to the world, someone or something hit me in the face, silencing me with the sweet embrace of the darkness.

The first building was surrounded by perhaps a dozen guards. Simple soldiers, none of those red-masked monsters that were showing up now.

Looking at them through a 12x optical scope, I could see their expressions. Distaste. Anger. Boredom. Nowhere did they look hateful towards anything, least of which us. Too bad, this makes my job all the more enjoyable.

I clicked my tongue, causing Icepick to read off the targeting information in a bored monotone.

"4 klicks southeast, 400 meters." I adjusted my zeroing on the scope, as the rest of our group did the same.

To take down the howitzers, we had recalled several platoons of reinforcements who were strengthening supply routes through enemy territory, and rushed them towards the emplacements. However, only this one was not surrounded by enemy forces, so only this one could be attacked by the full might of a coordinated assault. We would take out the guards from long range, and before anyone on their end or inside realized what was going on, we would breach the perimeter with three full platoons of close quarters troops, armed with PDW's and shotguns. After eliminating any resistance inside, they would either rig the artillery to explode, or if it was simply a dumbfire piece, be reconfigured to target another artillery piece, thereby killing two birds with one stone.

The rooftop we were on was just snipers. The rest of us were stowing away in a building down the road, close to the target, but far enough away from it to avoid detection from the enemy. Among those in the breaching squad was the Crusader, having taken the name of status to complement her older relative, Warrior.

She had changed lately. She was still so naive, but no longer above killing to survive...reminds me of Warrior, really.

"All targets, down on my signal." The sound of a dozen bolt-actions being cycled, or magazines being checked, were heard. Three of us were purely long-range combat specialists; the other nine were just infantry given a rifle and instructed how to operate it. We had to make do, however.

"Fire." Four .50 BMG rounds, five .338 Lapua rounds, and two 7.62mm NATO rounds sped at their targets at the speed of sound, possibly faster, with a mighty crack, snap, and clang as the bolts were cycled once again.

The guards went down. All except one, that is. He was freaking out, suitably, as his entire squad had just dropped dead in the space of a second. I let him fish out his radio before I took his life as well. It was quite pleasurable to see the fear on his face in his last seconds of life.

"Area clear, breaching proceeding as planned. Will continue to provide support."

I settled back down to the scope, following the progress of the two dozen figures dart inside of the seemingly normal commercial complex.

/So you look familiar. You've got 15 seconds, or I pop your head like it's bubble wrap.

...Hiiragi? I was...the officer who...saw to you in the first week after your admittance to the...hospital.

/...Ah, that does ring a bell. I'm only interested in what I seem to be remembering as _your relationship to Konata_.

...My cousin. Her mom was my aunt...my little sister was...really close to her. Only three years apart, so they were...

/Yes, yes, I don't really give a shit. So what do you think happened to Konata?

...She's gone. After the riots and the Wall and the separation, I haven't seen her in years. Now, though, I bet she's dead...You know, don't you?

/Damn straight I do. She's the head of this _fucking _rebel movement. Best part is, they're _fucking winning_. We're low on resources, and they've got a sheer advantage in numbers that we're just holding out until they all kill each other, which isn't going to happen.

...Why tell me this? I wasn't a threat to you in the first place, but now I just want to die.

/I'll tell you why. My guys are going to fix you up, and after today, you're going to go join up with them. You're going to get close to your little family member, and you're going to fucking kill her. She was one of the killers at that school shooting. You know that, right?"

...Oh my god, it makes so much sense...I'll do it, but amnesty after the fact would be nice. I'm gonna be going in deep.

/Of course. After all, getting your hands dirty isn't easy. Too bad I don't have anyone to kill that will really make it all better...

The outside was normal enough. But the gunfire inside told a different story. They were dug in deep, at it wasn't going to be easy to get through. I was now underneath a destroyed desk, reloading the drum magazine of my shotgun, one shell at a time, listening to the struggles of my squad forcing our way up each floor. We were all different, but this whole operation has brought us together, in one way or another...I brushed the hair out of my eyes, seeing that it was only the slightest touch of salmon in color. There was too much dust and dirt in the air to make out any more. I blinked the thought out of my head, before resettling myself on my haunches.

An enemy soldier sprinted by, and I rolled out onto my back, hitting him in the back with the 12 gauge slugs. He fell with a cry, his body armor shredded. I rolled back into cover, using my momentum to pump it with virtually no effort. My slim frame made it hard to manually operate the bulky weapon, but using motion to lessen the stress went a long way.

"Move up Phalanx, more incoming from the elevator!" An elevator on the left side of the office space opened up, sending another half-dozen soldiers running into the gunfight. Of course, everyone was focusing on the enemies at eye-level, not bothering to look down. Crawling on my hands and knees, I made it to the row of desks the enemy was using the opposite side of as cover.

I laid the modified pump-action on the floor, taking a submachine gun from my back. It was small, just like me. An MP7, with the magazine created out of two regular magazines cut apart and clamshelled together. Sixty rounds in one clip, it was deadly at close the gunfire stopped for a second while they stopped to reload, I went around the corner of the desk.

Right there, in plain view, were all eight of the soldiers, who hadn't even seen me. Being less than 140cm tall had its' advantages. This being one of them.

I snapped my fingers in my free hand, holding the gun out towards them with my left hand.

They shouted and tried to raise their weapons, but it was too late.

The gun clicked empty in seconds, and all of them had breathed their last. Kevlar vests only did so much, apparently.

Up until recently, like, the past few days, maybe, I wouldn't have done that. I would've felt terrible about the thought of killing someone. But now, I've come to realize that I'm in a "kill or be killed" world right now, so I'm going to kill to survive.

Just like onee-chan...she's not the type to just kill anyone, but it's a war, so reprehensible things will be done by both sides.

Yesterday, I had to kill prisoners whom were captured for the express reason of being tortured. They were so empty and cracked by the time that I got to them, that I almost felt happy ridding them of their soulless existence.

Almost.

"Alright, in the elevator, let's crack some heads!" Most of us fit into one elevator, but I opted to take the stairs. I don't like elevators. I just don't.

Good thing, too, as I heard gunfire and a scream as I made my way up the stairs. I quickened my pace, and as I came onto the floor several stories up from the lobby, I found my squad pinned down by machine gun emplacements that were shredding the maze of cubicles on the floor.

It was a good tactical maneuver. Except that, the stairs came up in a spot where I wasn't getting shot at.

I fiddled with my belt, withdrawing a small spherical object. I pulled the pin lazily, because each second longer I took was one feeble second those men and women could live. I thought it was the least I could do.

I walked down the line of cubicles, throwing the grenade into the small emplacement that had been erected. The explosion cut off the racket of machine guns as quickly as it had been started by my comrades' arrival on the floor.

I shouted out to them, as they were behind cover, as I looked into the machine gun nest, seeing nothing of value. Well, except for the bodies, and I really didn't like looking at them. But I also knew that looking away didn't make them disappear...

It wasn't my job to deal with them...but I felt sorry for the person who ended up doing it.

"They're gone, let's hurry up and take that howitzer!" At the sound of my voice, there was a general murmur of acknowledgement, and they all got up to continue forward. Street clothes with American armor on top, we didn't look to be organized, but we were a pretty efficient team. Unlike some of the other groups, which gave themselves frightening nicknames, we were just "the team" or "the squad".

We all had the same role, so we weren't going to be fragmented over "who gets to blow shit up", as Takaya said last week.

As they filed past me, I got a few grins from under dirty helmets, nods from those wearing the more "traditional" bandit look - bandanas with Russian assault rifles held in one hand. I had been considered the "useless" member, up until just a couple hundred hours ago.

Until I killed. I'm still not proud of it, but like I said, now, it's kill or be killed. And I know that when push comes to shove, I'd choose my family before I chose my friends...except for Minami, but that's different...

Bringing up the rear, we started for the rear. The only sounds in the stairwell were the labored breathing and the trundle of footsteps going up. But as we reached the top landing, we heard gunshots. Then silence.

Someone opened the door to the roof, and there laid the crew of the artillery piece. In front of all of them, was one man, holding a gun to his head. He was looking at us, the look of madness clearly apparent in his face.

Before anyone could do anything, he began to speak. Blood leaked out of the corner of his mouse. He was already among the dead, the grim reaper just didn't know it yet.

"You fight, you fight, hell, you may even win. But victory is only temporary. _You will lose._"

With that, he pulled the trigger, sending his own brains across the concrete roof. The howitzer sitting under a small overhang sat untouched, the massive shells standing up.

"Well, someone move them...take their ammo too. The rest of us, get those party cannons outta there, we're gonna point them at one of the other buildings and give them some awesome shit to write home about. You know, high-explosive, armor piercing, bunker buster style." One of the bandanna-clad said Oksana. A Russian immigrant, a real go-getter. You know, who better to fight a war against the oppressors than a Russian? I think that's funny. She probably wouldn't find it too funny for me to mention it to her though...

I've seen her choke a soldier to death with her bare hands, then used that guy's pistol to clear a whole room. We managed to take that whole building with nothing but her cold murder-mongering. That was one of the things that had an effect on me, as well.

I still don't like it.

"It's in position! Firing in ten, we're bringing the fuckin' rain to these stupid fuckers!" For all of his skill with shooting people, Adachi wasn't the best with words. Though, we were getting ready to wipe a multi-story building off the map with a couple 122mm howitzers. Not only was this the only one we could readily get to, we were hitting a target over 11 kilometers away with this.

You see, there are seven locations that had opened fire on nee-chan's vehicle. They were scattered throughout the city, with two of them actually in our conquered territory. Sleeper cells. One of them was on the far reaches of the city, near where we had actually started this whole scheme. This howitzer was on a near-direct line of sight with it. The orders on the radio gave us the elevation it would need to pound it to dust.

So we were going to do just that.

"Sir, you know that those rebels aren't going to end this war peacefully. It'll turn into a full-scale genocide of the people, one way or another. What are we going to do about it?"

The general, looking out the bridge at the deck, as the flight crews cleared the area as yet another jet took off, chuckled and shifted his shoulders.

Turning to me, I could see his eyepatch was tinted with just a touch of red today. Good. His eye was healing then.

"Due to international laws, we can't actually invade or attempt to impose order. However, the fact that NATO is supplying them further complicates things, especially due to the massive amounts of hardware that Russia, Germany, Belgium, and China are shipping in to support the rebellion. It may sound cruel, but the best course of action, beyond our own meddling here, is to let it all fetter out. They'll most likely just kill each other off, and if Tokyo is lost, then it's lost.

Frankly, it's not even the capital, so it's not the highest priority..."

I winced as I heard the beeping on the communications cluster, indicating an urgent message. To receive one, at this exact time, meant it most likely _wasn't _good news.

"Sir, we're being overrun! They're everywher-" The message cut off with gunfire, and the screams of shouting overtook the remainder of the message, until he manually ended the call.

He turned to me, a look on his face plainly saying "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

I gulped. I had been sent to him to relay a specific message...

"So what exactly was it that you wanted to tell me, Major?"

...

"Kyoto's breaking out into riots, and there's been sightings of NATO soldiers in Tokyo metro area..."

He clapped his hands slowly, staring at me with that one-eyed stare.

"We'll ain't that just fucking wonderful."

**A/N: Boom. This just got a tad bit more relevant. **

**This chapter was long. So, here's a TL;DR, in no particular order.**

**The uni is under lock and key, Konata either really likes that terrible Dragon Rising game, or Dragon is something balls-shatteringly awesome, the American leader doesn't like other world powers usurping their power, Yutaka still doesn't like killing, Minami is bored with killing, Akira is still a generic character with whom you know nothing about, we've got ourselves a killer on the loose...(another one...making it about 15,000,0001 total), Misao is now mindfucked, another OC is ground to meaty paste due to death by helicopter blade, and Konata has graduated from the Dukes of Hazzard Driving School.**

**Fuck yeah. A review for all this awesome would be...awesome. Expect gore, sexual repression, mythical creatures, supernatural forces, and the beginnings of a dark ritual of unfathomable cowardice in the next chapter.**

**Arkytal out.**


	12. XII

Calamity Plus One

X:II

**A/N: I'm not letting that month off/short hiatus from this story make me lazy. In fact, enjoy the new standard-for-now of longer chapters. A fun little tidbit to know is that I listen to a lot of happy hardcore, furry techno, and trance while writing, but for what I'm pretty sure is the first time, actually used some depressing music while I wrote...I wonder if anyone can figure out which part that was. ;) **

The order coming down the line into the base was one that I was all too delighted to hear.

"Whip, the Dragon's rising. Get your fine ass down to the cave. Oh, and make sure to come back in one piece, so I can keep sneakin' peeks." Fucking vulgar men, I reminded myself I needed to masticate another one by the end of the week. That made it what, around seventy, I believe? You'd think they'd stop harassing me after I found each and every one of them and cut off the funsies with a rusty knife.

Getting up from the chair in the converted subway maintenance hallway, I began hurrying down the labyrinthine hallways towards the base proper. Troops moved out of the way to let me pass through with minimal reduction in speed. Everyone had heard the order, and while very few knew what the hell was going on, the infantry had learned to never, _ever_, get in my way, unless you liked losing some non-vital body parts. Palms taste the best, and the only way I'll put genitalia in my mouth is if it's been sauted. I must admit, it's not bad. Not too much nutritional value, though. For the ladies, I usually just forced my hand in there with a lighter in hand and lit it for a few seconds. Same type of damage, same type of psychological scarring. I've only had to do that one twice. I made them both pleasure me afterwards, too, even as their vaginas bled. IT probably hurt to kneel in front of me during all that, too.

Bitches know their place.

Reaching the mechanic's den, I headed for the back, past the crates of munitions and armaments that the engineering geeks were working through. We had to fix every single piece of damaged equipment and get it back out in the fight; even now, a good two to three million infantry had nothing but whatever blade they managed to scavenge out of the trash.

That being said, with that many sharp and pointy things pointed at you, it's no small wonder that the military hasn't turned tail and ran away. It might have to do with those red-masked rape combines, the reason the Dragon is even needed at all.

When Russia started dropping in supplies for us, we thought it was good enough that assault rifles and submachine guns, as well as ammunition, were dropped en masse. But when this hulking monster landed on our doorstep, literally, along with a few of those armored trucks Konata and that bitch are roaming around in, it was safe to say that more than a few bricks were deposited neatly into the trousers of many.

It might have been the fact that it weighed in at over 60 tonnes after the genii we had modified it, mounting more of the Russians' weaponry to it, and modifying the internal structure to carry an additional 9 tonnes of ammunition, without sacrificing the amount of punishment it could take, which had been strengthened, apparently. I don't know quite how, listening to some of those nerds talk made me want to take a fire axe to their neck. Theoretically, the Americans could bomb it with a couple of bunker busters, and while everything else for a few hundred meters would be wrecked, this unholy creation would still be able to kill you, and crush your corpse while it was driving away afterwards, to boot.

It was ridiculous, in the same vein as myself. You know, the one that's better than every man, by leaps and bounds, and only better than other females because they're not me. It's only fitting that only four people among our number can actually drive the main unit itself. Seeing as three of those people are in the field right now, I'm needed to actually get it moving and wage monstrous amounts of destruction with it.

I'm getting a little excited just thinking about it. Before my hands could stray south, however, I made it to the massive tunnel dug out simply to store the main battle tank.

The tops of the mounted turrets flanking the main turret caused the height of this beast to be just over three meters, nearly a whole meter more than the original design. Climbing onto the platform, I opened the main turret's hatch with a key I had dug out of my pocket. It was in the shape of a skull, and that was no coincidence. The Russians were really subtle in their meaning, I have got to say.

Entering the interior, I hit the switch to prime the engines, punching the ignition once the priming light went green. The rumble of the engine shook the tunnel, but it was music to my ears. The rumble was just the sound of death coming ever closer to so many people. People whose' lives I would crush personally under several tonnes of steel and kinetic energy generated from heavy ballistics. People who, really, weren't even people. Animals, foolish to stay and wait for their impending doom. Thus, it wasn't my fault that I was just speeding up the natural process.

I eased the throttle forward, ramping it up to nearly a quarter to full before the accurate definition of a "tank" rolled forth into the tunnel. It was slow moving, having to turn slightly this way and that to avoid scraping the turrets against the ceiling. Though the ceiling was high enough for easy travel for the normal version of this tank, after those blood-crazy nerds had had their way with it, the same could not be said.

Finally pulling out into the main tunnel, I increased the speed, making a timely 15 kph to the entrance, which had by now become swarmed with people who were curious at just what exactly was shaking the whole network of tunnels. More than half of them had no doubt ever encountered the metallic menace, and those that had, had done so before it was upgraded to the status of "mounted Gsh-6-30 turrets, 4cm thick steel frontal armour" status. I cannot stress enough, I'm going to have a moment of ecstasy when I get to pull the trigger on those things. The bastards were designed to punch through _other tanks_, and I was going to be hitting infantry with them! Ah, such a wonderful life.

At the beginning of the incline to the exit, I stopped the weapons platform, and opened the hatch to stand tall at the assembled crowd. Scanning for the crew that would operate the auxiliary functions, I spotted them in the corner of the mayhem, fighting their way through the throng to get at the armored fighting vehicle.

I snapped my fingers and pointed at them, causing many to scrunch away in fear. That was a smart move for them. My methodology is legendary among the troops, whether out of fear or admiration, I don't care. I get results, and as a result, the crew was then ferried to the vehicle itself in less than ten seconds following my unspoken request.

It's good to be queen, let me assure you. To be doted upon, to be told that you are the best there is, whether the people telling you this believes it or not. I , of course, know it to be true, but for those rare non-believers, that's why I carry a pair of pliers with serrated blades.

It's mostly those piggish men, of course, that dare say anything negative to me. In return, I don't dare to give them any mercy. I've already climbed to the top of the pile of ignorance and stagnation, anyone who dares to usurp me will be dismembered and mounted to the wall for all to see and mock.

That's only happened 29 times so far, which I think is a pretty small percentage of our total number.

As they climbed onto the rig and entered the interior to take their places as the working crew, I climbed in again and sat in the properly vacant gunners' seat. This was facing rearward, as it was the only place it would fit. It was using a fly-by-wire system scrapped from an enemy helicopter, and was hooked up to those rotating hell fuck spawn monsters. I don't even know by this point. I have butterflies in my stomach, knowing that I'm about to mow down streets of people, both friendly and enemy.

Oh, I didn't mention? The command structure had agreed, if this was to be used, it was going to go on a complete rampage. If there was a goal to be completed, we would complete, and then proceed to cause as much damage as possible, before returning to our lair in victory.

For this, we would force entrance to the university, before heading back out into the untouched portions of the city. We're going to bring down fucking apartment buildings and shit, damn it all to hell.

I grabbed my radio as the tank eased up the slope. The driver, Oda, had started off, as I switched on a radio that hung next to my head. I leaned over in front of him and stopped the behemoth with a flick of my finger, bringing us to a stop. I tapped him on the shoulder, nodding for him to stay put, pointing at my radio. The old speakers in the subway tunnels had been hacked by those same techies to accept these radios' as mics. Damn useful.

I warmed up with a cough before beginning another speech to rile up those around us. It was quite a talent, to make people run face-first to their own deaths. I relish it as such.

"All of you may be wondering 'what the hell is that thing?'. Well, it's exactly what it looks like. It's a fully-loaded T-90 Russian Main Battle Tank, so kindly given to us by the Russians at NATO, for use in our war against our oppressors. Some of you may have been part of the effort to better prepare it for the day in which we would be forced to use it to overcome staggering odds.

Today is that day.

There is a group of enemies who stand between us and our objective at the university. They have been repelling all efforts to force our way through them. They are mere foot soldiers who dare get in the way of our might, wearing some type of advanced battle armour that is impervious to small-arms fire, even up to the .50 caliber rounds that Warrior and Whip have tried and failed to eliminate the targets with.

This is the Dragon, capable of untold amounts of death and destruction. We will crush these enemies, and all of those who stand in our way. We will sow death, destruction, fear, despair, and desperation into the hearts of our enemies.

They may have obtained this small mote of superiority against us on one front, but while they act smug and assured of their victory, we will crush them into infinitesimal pieces of gored sludge. There is no escape now. The enemy, is coming to its' last legs, surely, and this will be the piece that will tip the scales.

I am aware that if you were in the base at this time, you had a reason to be, but I invite all of you to follow us on our path to victory. Drop what you are doing, grab your weapons, and assist in what may very well be the last major engagement of this war.

For those of you physically unfit to use your own limbs to carry you the distance to the just fight being fought in the other half of the city, have someone lift you onto this mighty Dragon, and we will carry you to the fight ourselves.

I only ask of you to fight your very hardest, your bravest, and without any fear. Not all of you will survive this, that can be sure.

But there is nothing that is worth fighting for that isn't worth dying for.

This is your Tactical Advisor, Wisp, out. Forward to victory!"

As I depressed the button on the radio, the silence around us erupted into cheers and whoops that could be heard even outside of the thick, sound-dampening metal of the cockpit. From what I could see on the cameras mounted to the turret, my only means of seeing outside, the crowd was surging, those injured being actually lifted above the heads of the healthy, so they could rest on the sides of the beast.

Overzealous, the masses were, and many of the freedom fighters, imbued with my words, were running up the slope, quickly exiting out of view, no doubt beginning to line the streets for our passage. It was amazing, really, how weak of mind these people were. Sure, they were my comrades in arms, but to be moved so easily by words, made them no different than the people we were trying to remove from power.

Oh well, I still get to stain my hands with the blood of hundreds. That's all I'm here for. Though unlike Hiiragi-san, I plan on sticking around afterwards.

With the masses now coming close around us as the crowd surged forward, I reached forward again, pushing the throttle forward, and giving the thumbs-up to the driver. He nodded.

He was actually quite exemplary for a man. He didn't talk until you talked to him, and he would do whatever you asked of him. Though I think that might be due to the fact that I crushed his left nut under my shoe when he was sleeping one time. I don't think he knows it's me who did it, and either way, I don't give a single flying fuck.

Up the slope we went, quicker than I thought possible, no doubt pushed along our path by the sheer number of walking meatbags behind us; they most likely numbered in the thousands, as it were.

Breaching the sunlight, or the bleak daylight that came through the clouds that were mixed with ash and smoke, there was the gargantuan crowd lining the street as we went along. So many happy faces, hopeful, happy. Well, maybe not so much happy, but rather empowered to go along with this.

That makes me happy. Happy to know that in the space of a few hours, I might have the chance to personally crush a fair number of those ignorant souls underfoot, as well as crush the hopes and dreams of those stupid enough to truly believe in selfless actions. I'm only doing it for me, if it helps someone else, well, good for them, I guess.

We rolled through the ruined city, the stark images of death and destruction on the road ahead, coming in with full clarity to my viewscreen, made me tingle with anticipation. We, the people, were tearing this city apart, and we were going to re-build it in our own demonic, twisted image. Let it be known, the world will never be the same.

A helicopter was heard, and it appeared over the lip of a bombed out building further down the road. It was a gunship, attempting to strafe us. I could only imagine the feeling of dread the pilot must have felt to see a sea of infantry, crowding around a massive tank. Or maybe, we were so covered in people, that the tank itself was invisible at this range. In that case, perfect. They wanted an easy target, and they would pay the ultimate price for it.

"Permission to fire?" The loader for the main cannon came through on the radio, her voice high and cold. Her name I did not know, but I felt like it was Makoto. Not that it mattered.

"Granted." The barrel elevated as the single-seat helicopter began its' run down the middle of the 4-lane street.

The whole vehicle bucked backwards almost half a meter as the shell was fired, the sound of it whistling through the air as before it slammed into the gunship seeming to echo off into the distance. It was ripped apart into a fiery explosion, whirling to the side, colliding with another building, and crashing straight through, leaving nothing but small debris ahead of us.

A quick listen to the radio chatter in the local area told me no one was harmed, but, as we lurched forward at full speed, everyone was amazed at the insane firepower of this harbinger of the apocalypse.

I chuckled as we continued on our way to the university, where the main force was engaging in an all-out attack with the enemy.

If they thought this was all we had to offer to our enemies, then they would be easily swayed by the forces that will come to the forefront in the late stages of this little 'game'.

Well, you know, the one that comes after I fill Warrior's body with so many holes that she begs for death.

I might give it to her, too.

"The hell do you mean the support went silent!?" Hearing shit like this right after the report that the ZPU was _not _among the rubble of the highway overpass was not a great way to improve my mood.

"Check again, there wasn't even a report of AA fire. You find me a reason to believe that they just fuckin' disappeared off the face of the planet, and I'll believe you." Peering over the screens and charts of data, I felt only one feeling. Unfiltered, psychotic rage. I wanted to kill something, anything. My plans were falling apart, but snuffing out the life of something would make it just a little bit better. I could pretend my sister's face was on it, maybe. Think that I was ending the cause of it before it even started.

Yeah, that's what I'll do. I grabbed my rifle from the chair it sat on, loading a full magazine into it. Yeah, operating out of an airport had some perks. Mainly, there were always people around. And these people didn't matter. I had singular command of all the forces that weren't dead, so if anything, I could be expected to do some fucked-up shit to keep my control solid.

Ah, yes, where are my two 'aides', I wonder? I already know the answer, of course. Enjoying their time not doing anything. Actually, Minoru is an alright person. He can be useful sometimes. That cunt Akira, however. She deserved the hollow-point rounds more than anyone I can think of...that's still alive, of course.

I took my radio with me as I let myself out of the command center, locking the door behind me. That way, if someone _really _needs me, they can get in touch with me.

I tucked said radio into the back pocket of my pants, closing the flap to them, before taking my favorite rifle in two hands, making sure the safety was off and the first round was chambered.

Strolling along at a slightly faster pace than normal, I quickly came upon the room where I would find my target. Standing outside the door where I could hear the pink-haired little bitch verbally abusing her timid, unwilling 'significant other', I stopped.

I breathed in through my nose, and sighed.

Sis, this is all your fault. I'm beyond help, just like you were. Why? Why did you do it? If I were you, in the same position, I wouldn't have done it. You know that, don't you? I would've sucked it up and dealt with it.

But you weren't like that. You were too nice. Too expectant of the world to not be such a harsh place. I guess what really broke you was the point when it wasn't just a few people, sometimes. It was all the time, everywhere, even at home, even if we didn't realize it. All that doting from Mum and Dad, and all the one-sided affection, and nothing for you. You were left in the dust, expected to simply be the lower-tiered one, never expected to do anything with your life.

But no. You did something greater than what I could ever hope to achieve. You ruined it. You ruined _everything._ You murdered hundreds in cold blood, ravaged untold families, crush the dreams of those you took the lives from unjustly. They had families, sis. Now, that type of thing, a 'family', is unheard of here in Tokyo. You took that all away from us. Now we're just killing each other until one side runs out of people to kill other people with. Somehow, I know I won't be on the winning side, even if I had chosen to follow your legacy from the very beginning. I thought about it, many times.

You've driven me past the point of no return. You've made me in your image. You must be proud, huh? Your perfect sister, all set to coast through the rest of middle school, and go to law school, be successful, and leave you in the dust of disappointment and unknown flashes of contempt.

Now I'm killing for the sake of killing, to take me down a peg from an undeserved fury that might threaten to engulf me, had I not devised a way to control it.

If reincarnation does exist, and your wretched soul ever walks this Earth again, I hope you live a thousand lives in the worst way possible. No, a thousand is too little. A million, maybe more. Until the sun slowly snuffs itself out, I want you to be in agony, tortured by the mortal body you no doubt sought to rid yourself of.

Killed in the fruitless civil wars of small Middle Eastern countries, torn apart at the waist by mortars. Left alive, to suffer in agony for hours before you finally bleed out, taking in your last breath through shattered lungs, cursing the fate you were delivered, yet again, by the forces that be.

Raped and beaten to death at the hands of gangsters who thought your body was enough of a prize to take...permanently.

Think you've finally sorted out the demons of past lives, but be forced to be destroyed in one way or another, to remind you that you're nothing but scum. Scum, who thought that the best solution to your problem was to send off the youth of the nation to their deaths, and send yourself along with them.

Sis, I'm not giving you forgiveness. I'm just asking that, when I meet you again, in another time, in another place...can I kill you?

I don't care if it's in the womb, or at a birthday party of a mutual friend. Maybe it will be that you are my job interviewer.

All I ask is that when you look into my eyes, and I into yours, you allow my dominance, and allow me to finally shut down the monster that you've become. I will strangle the life out of you, and because of our inseparable bond of twins, undiminished even when tested with the limits of time and space, I will eliminate you from the book of life, and maybe bring some justice back into this lawless world.

It's not out of hate, it's out of necessity. So, sis, I'm sorry, but, if you can hear my thoughts, even in death.

Fucking kill yourself.

I grinned. Theoretical as it were, it sounded good, and with my next set of actions, I might make myself as sick as she were on that day, all those years ago.

After all, Akira Kogami is only 19, and I know the dumb bitch was held back at least once. You know, for being a self-entitled bitch. So _technically_, she should still be in school.

The thought brought a smile to my face, and no doubt made me look like I was fit to kill. I wonder why.

I decided to be as terrifying as possible, kicking down the door in one swift kick.

What was behind it, however, made me exhibit one overly large sweatdrop, along with an exhale of breath that sounded like myself in high school...

Minoru was strapped to the bed by several chains that were hooked to mounts secured to the floor, and sitting on his face, completely naked, while whipping his stomach with a whip, was the bipolar, maniacal bitch herself.

...You know what. Now I don't feel so bad about doing this.

"Eat it! Lick it, you pig! Oink oink, motherfucker!" Her shouts were cut off when I entered the room in an all-too-nice fashion, so now she was just staring at me, mouth open, expression blank.

I gave her a sneer and leveled the gun on her. She still didn't seem to process what was going on.

From underneath her nether regions, came Shiraishi's voice.

"Pwan koo eez het oof oo ee?" She reacted to that, jumping off the bed and covering herself as best she could. She noticed that my aim followed her. Minoru's face was all wet. Ew.

"...C...Can I help, you...uh...Major Hiiragi?" So quick to change expressions, huh. Well, that wasn't going to be enough to save her.

I adjusted my aim to her heart as I explained myself, feeling it was slightly more dramatic than simply popping her heart with a NATO 5.56 round.

"Well, you see, I was thinking about how my sister was. You know. Tsukasa, the fucking crazy one.

I've become like her, I realized. Sure, I tell myself it's for the good of the people, but really, it's all about revenge. If someone pisses me off, I fucking kill them. But with you, I have a different reason.

Not only am I going to kill you, but since you're still young, and could even still be in school right now, I feel like I'll be just like Tsukasa, only you're a self-serving cunt, whose death will only better everyone else in the world.

So yeah, I'm just going to kill you, I guess." I shrugged, aiming my gun at various limbs as she squeaked in fear and backed up to the wall, but she knew full well that I was between her and the only exit of the room.

Her arms splayed out on the wall. She was skinny, but I still wouldn't' miss that ugly target. She changed position, pointing at me with her left hand, almost in an accusing manner.

"You can't do this! We're on your side!" Hm, Shiraishi is useful to me still, but you're just trash. Trashy trash. Trash. I like that word. It fits her _very _well. Not to mention what I've done to her...well, that was just that one time, anyways.

I pretended to lull this over in my head, even as I adjusted my footing oh-so-slightly. Now the barrel was in line with her thin, frail arm.

This is going to be awesome.

As a final move, I imagined her head being replaced by that of my sisters'. It filled me with rage like no other.

"No one is on my side." Before she could drop her arm, I pulled the trigger once. A single, solitary round shot forth, crossing the distance to her hand, and going all the way down the bone, almost splitting it in half. The blood was everywhere, and the crack as it went was the greatest sound I have ever heard.

"AAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHH!" Her screams of anguish as her arm was literally split apart erupted in an instant. She dropped to the floor, attempting to cradle the ruined limb in her other arm, but it was in two distinct pieces all the way up till her shoulder. It wasn't that the round was particularly powerful, or fast, but it had hit the exact center, and her frame was very frail. The bones were so thin that even the 5.56mm wide round caused a bisection that was slightly cringe-worthy to look at, even for me. And that's saying something.

Blood and mucus dripped from her nose. Blood dripped from her split arm. The girl looked up to me with tears in her eyes, her mouth set in a scream that lasted for several seconds.

I just stood there, waiting for her to stop. Torture isn't any fun unless the tortured has time to calm down.

While I was waiting, my gaze fell on Shiraishi, who was still strapped to the bed. His expression was amazing, however.

He was laughing, and smiling, no doubt taking this as being hilarious. He hated the bipolar wench as much as I did. Maybe more, considering he was around her much more...either that, or he was a masochist, which was also entirely possible, considering the fact that he was strapped to a bed while wearing nothing but a strip of cloth over his privates.

Bah, I'll just chalk that up to being 'Kogami-Mania'.

Oh look, she stopped bawling her eyes out. I was expecting it to take much longer than that.

"p...ple...please, kill me...you...mmm...mon...ste..." She couldn't even form coherent sentences, but that wasn't going to stop me from denying her, her 'dying wish'. Haha, puns!

Well, except for the fact that I had no intention of killing her...just yet.

I looked back to her, squatting down to her level, where the broken girl of short stature was shivering from blood loss, and neatly shot her in the right leg, from above, several times, before repeating the same to her left.

She was really bleeding now, and possibly in shock. Her screams weren't as intense; she no doubt lacked the energy to put on such a good show for her audience. She fell backwards, having been kneeling, but now, seeing as the muscles to keep her from falling backwards were minced, she couldn't stay up.

Now her head was against the wall, her broken body in front of her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each breath an effort.

Now, I could just let her bleed out, but I wanted the final kill. I walked over to her useless flesh that was now all over this corner of the room. I stopped in front of her body. Moving her legs apart with my boot, I wound up with my foot and kicked her right in the pelvis, feeling it shatter with a rather feeble crack.

Her back arched, and she let out another cry, this one even less satisfying than the others. It seems I broke her too quickly. She now was most likely fading fast, meaning I had to end her swiftly.

"Well, this is it, cunt. Say hello to my sister for me." I aimed the German rifle down, and, switching the fire selector to full-auto, emptied around a dozen rounds into her head.

With that, Akira Kogami, bitch and useless administrative assistant, was dead.

A shame. Breaks my heart just thinking about it.

_Really_.

...Great, now I have to get him out of the...uh, harness.

I set my rifle on the dresser, and moved over to him to begin undoing the many bindings. He was going to have some scarring, but he can deal with that.

Wait, why the hell do I care about an underling? Great, Sis, you made me all emotional. I'm going to fucking kill you. Yes, I'm going to kill you, though you're already dead. I'll go to your grave, piss on it, cover it with plastic explosives, and blow your remains to kingdom fucking come.

Yeah...that brings a smile to my face, amongst all this bullshit. That's not a good thing, either.

**A/N: Well, that was interesting. I really felt the need to kill her off, she was kind of useless. Quite a few references to what's about to happen, but it's going to be completely unexpected...well, mostly, hopefully. **


	13. X:III

Calamity Plus One

X:III

There's no Kingdom Hearts references here.

**A/N: I've been getting pretty stressed out lately, and coupled with some of the most retarded writer's block I've seen since 'Nam, I've been unable to write anything. I did start a few new stories, however, so that's cool, I guess.**

**Urban warfare is messy, kids! Don't try it at home! Unless you live in Syria, in which case, I apologize for making such a tasteless joke, though most of those reading it know that I'm not actually sorry for making said joke, and am only apologizing because some people think that I'm actually sorry, and this hollow motion will somehow pacify them.**

**ANYWAYS. **

The rounds impacted into the wall where I had been mere seconds before. I dodged around the corner, feeling the rifle slung on my back ricochet painfully into the small of my back, That was of little consequence now. I had been seen, and now my squad was dead, and I was only alive because I ran. I ran and left them behind. But now they weren't anything anymore. They were just more corpses littered in the street.

I had thought that by running into the alleys, I'd lose them easily. But these fuckers were no slouches. I had lost them for a minute by hiding in a garbage bin, but it didn't do much; after a minute, I climbed out, and promptly knocked it over, forcing me to flee again as they resumed the chase, hearing me swear in surprise as it broke the muted deafness created in the tight confines of the area.

The smell of an open sewer may have followed me as well; we had been trudging past a drainage pipe when we were ambushed. It wasn't pretty, to see them just pop out of nowhere, maybe even having been tailing us, and cutting down everyone in a few seconds. Hearing the gurgles amidst the gunfire is something I cannot even begin to describe, nor do I want to. But it was all a means to an end...in the end.

The road is just ahead. There's more gunfire, but it sounded different than the high clipped sounds of whatever these guys were shooting at me with. It was more metallic, more defined, and less repetitive.

With a final burst of speed, I ran out of the alley, and took in the whole scene in an instant.

Ten meters to the left, the command ZPU was on the opposite side of the road. A hundred meters down the road was a massive crowd of friendlies all firing on something that couldn't be seen. To my right, a couple enemy soldiers were running away from something, probably the ZPU.

I stumbled slightly as I fell forward onto the pockmarked road, but regained my footing as the soldiers came around the corner.

I sprinted with all my might for the armored truck, putting my hands out and vaulting over the hood to the safety of cover on the other side. I caught myself with the side of the truck and forced my pent-up momentum to dissipate in an instant. Putting out my other hand to prevent my face from smashing into the metal exterior, I leaned over the side to see the enemy soldiers. They were still in the relative cover the two buildings offered them, but one of them spotted me, and pointed. I ducked back down just as gunshots rang out, pinging off the side of the truck.

A grinding sound emanated from the vehicle itself, as I saw the turret mounted atop rotate away from its' target towards the soldiers.

They tried to run, but there was no chance. The deep BOOP BOOP BOOP of the turret echoed off of the alleyway back towards us, bringing with it the sound of five more dead grunts. It really hurts me to know that I don't care that they're dead. But now, I've but one target.

Konata. She's not a friend, not part of the family. Not any longer.

I had been given a rebel gun, clothing, and a concealed pistol, and sent into the world to "join up" with the rebels. Hell, Hiiragi's lackeys dyed my hair and gave me colored contacts, just to disguise everything about me.

It was almost too easy to just run straight to enemy forces with a tattered visage and a clunky AK, and be brought in with open arms. I was instructed to follow the rest of the squad to a location, some place they were ordered to siege.

What really surprised me about these 'monsters' was their age. Or you know, lack thereof. I can pass as a young adult, which let me fit in, but these guys, none of them could be over 23, at the oldest. Which means they were 18 when this shit started. All of them are in their golden years, and the only golden thing any of them will ever get is a name written in gold on a war memorial...and not even that. There's no signup, no records, no register for these guys. You only know another's name by what they tell you, and what someone else tells you about another. Half the idiots I was walking with before that staged 'ambush' weren't going by anything even _mildly _name-like. Some saw this whole escapade as a joke, while others felt that they had nothing to live for, and they saw it as a way to escape their fate, by shedding everything about them, name included.

So the dead who had laid in front of me would have read off like the killfeed in an online video game.

'Chiachia has been given a new orifice by ?.

'Bleach won't be able to think straight due to the new medication provided by ?'

'RebeccaBlack has finally succumbed to her own singing.'

'Alittleshort had a joyful reunion with his patron saint.'

'RickAstley is THE SLAYER.'

Heh, that last one makes me chuckle, but there are much more serious thoughts at hand.

There's a voice coming out of the turret. This may be the end of the war...or the beginning of the end. Hah, I have nothing left to lose.

I grappled up onto the roof of the vehicle to closer hear the voice that sounded as though it were coming out of thereabouts.

"Name and group bitch, we're not taking any chances here. Answer fast, because you're a pretty nice target for enemy snipers."

As if to accentuate the voice's words, a large round pinged off of the turret, making a nice scorch mark. .50 caliber, I'd say. Maybe even larger.

Damnit.

What the hell was that? Not seconds after spotting the uni, and right before I was about to turn the engine back on, there's a thump on the right side of the truck, and something slides across my field of vision and onto the other side of the hood. Another few seconds, and the turret turns, with Warrior firing on something I can't see.

Then there's something on the top of the vehicle, and Warrior's screaming at the 'bitch' to identify herself.

Sometimes stuff moves fast around here. Especially with crunch time being so close at hand.

I heard the reply loud and clear, and to me, the voice sounded strangely familiar, but I couldn't seem to place it.

"Arakawa Masami, I was heading for the target with my squad when those guys mowed down my squad, I barely made it here with my life! Can I get in, I don't want to die out here today."

That voice...still so familiar. I thought her story checked out though, so I turned back and poked Warrior in the leg.

"Open the hatch, it's fine. I think I know her, too; her voice is really familiar." She looked at me in the nearly non-existent light inside the vehicle proper. Her eyes flashed in what little light poked through.

"I dunno, but you the boss, Whippy." She popped the hatch, but something clanged off of it loudly as it went up, causing it to drop down with great force.

"Sniper fire! Get your ass in here grunt!" The hatch above the rear of the vehicle was popped open again, and a figure appeared in the opening and dropped down inside, landing on the bed of ammo that sat in a giant hopper in the back half of the vehicle. The hatch came down once again, leaving us in the dark, until Warrior hit the internal light, causing us all to be bathed in low quality, orange light.

The woman holding onto the edge of the hopper appeared to be a year or two older than myself, with dark brown, or even black hair; the light made it hard to tell. She had a scar across the face, indicating something nasty. Her hair was beyond her shoulders, but due to the seat being in the way, I couldn't figure out the total length. Her skin was pale, but probably not as much as the light made it seem.

Her eyes were the most interesting part. One eye was yellow, while the other was ice blue. I thought that was more than a little odd.

"So, what's with your eyes? Why is one yellow and the other blue?" She seemed startled by the comment, and unnaturally so. It made me uneasy, but not enough for me to tell her to get out. After all, she might just be scared because she's now in the back of a truck with two of the leaders of this...army, I guess.

"They'r...they're the result of ocular heterochromia. I was born with it...a lot of people call that to attention..." Oh, now I feel bad. Well, not really. She's interrupting our wonderful funtime.

"That reminds me. Take your gun out of the hopper and throw it on the seat. A misfire could cause some damage to the rounds, and if this thing jams, you're climbing out to switch the offending parts." Warrior had a point, and I watched as an AK came over the seat and landed on it, barrel facing towards the dash, its' sling tied to the side with a strip of wire.

I thought something was..._off_ about it. I leaned over, and gave it a closer look. The wood was scuffed, the stock had dings and scratches on it. The metal had obvious signs of wear and tear on it. It seemed just like it should. _Exactly _like it should, actually, and that made me uneasy.

Maybe I'm just imagining things, but she seems to be slightly more than what she seems. Oh well, there was no use in dwelling on it, there was some of Kagami's goons to run over. And let me tell you, that is some of the most fun I've had in _years_...

"Get comfortable back there, I'm going to be flooring it through the crowd." I looked back to see her shifting through the vat of bullets, looking like she was resting her chin on her palms.

"Got it Whip-san, I'm ready." Warrior sighed, tapping her foot on the back of the front seat before retracting it into the turret.

"She's got a name, bitch, bet you never knew it." Warrior spit at the other woman, whose long hair hid her reaction.

After a few seconds, she responded, choosing her words carefully. Rightfully so, too; Warrior is known for being an evil bitch, and a wrong word could mean death, even in the safety of my presence. But what came out was completely unexpected; she was smart, this one.

"A name is only what me make of it, Warrior-san. In the world of 'civilization', the name of a person or a pet is given by its' owner. This shows domination. To have a name that you wish to be called by, that is not what was given to you initially, it no longer matters, the name given to you. I know of her real name, but if she wishes to leave that behind, than that is her choice. The same goes for you, Warrior-sama. Your name is no longer of any consequence; what matters is the here-and-now. However, unlike Whip-san, I am not aware of what you were called in the days and years before this revolution.

Do you think it can be said that the name is not what defines the person? If I gave myself a name for myself, I would pick Raver, for my favorite pastime. This is an ambiguous example, but I think it will suffice.

Now can we please get going? Nothing it going to get done while we're sitting here talking. And I'm sure Izumi-san would agree with me."

Twice, I saw Warrior...no, Sekine, about to tell her to shut the fuck up, or something along those lines, but she had the mind to keep quiet. This Masami...Raver, woman, apparently knew my name. But, she also had a point. It doesn't matter what a person's name is, that has nothing to do with what a person actually does. To know them by another name, or a completely false name, is of little to no consequence.

But still, how the _fucking fuck _does she know me name? I do not have a good feeling about this, at all. At the same time, I won't ever find out if I just kill her...oh, the dilemma.

I nodded and pressed the ignition, speaking over my shoulder as our little chat has ended with a bang as the engine turned over. It shook the frame with a rumble as it sprang to life.

"You got it, Raver. My response to that, is that Masami Arakawa isn't your real name, either, and that you avoided the wrath of _Sekine _quite nicely." I dodged to the left as she, predictably, attempted to kick me in the back. I wouldn't put it past her to have knives in her shoes. Crazy bitch.

"The fuck!" She slammed the sides of the turret. I managed to avoid emitting the small chuckle that made its' way up my throat. She was a complete and utter psychopath, and was set off by the most inconsequential things. Her name being one of them.

Honestly, I don't think I know who this Raver woman is, but if she knew enough about _Sekine _to know what would piss her off, which honestly wasn't difficult, I think this woman is just fine then. Knows how to get under a psycho's skin...and might even be willing to help me kill her.

Seriously, she's gonna have to go. She's keeping me bound to this madness, and won't let me remove myself from her cold, dead hands until she's, well, dead.

-/`""`\\-

"We're coming in hot! All units find cover, danger close high explosive rounds being fired in ten seconds! Two hundred meters out!"

The masses parted in front of us, rushing to the sides of the streets, squeezing into the buildings around as room was made for our movement through. The sheer number of units in front of us was staggering, and it provided a physical meat shield for the Russian behemoth. We were not hit with a single round on the way to the university, and now it was in sight, coming ever closer as we sped down the middle of the multi-laned road at a frightening 60km/h.

The enemy, known to be some type of horribly advanced armoured soldiers, were repelling the whole of the infantry we had, and were no doubt designed to be excellent against soft targets, after the type of war we've been waging.

So the appearance of a full fledged tank, and one that was mounted with rockets, high-caliber machine guns, and honest-to-fucking-'insert deity here' miniguns, would be enough to ruin their day, and dramatically shorten the remaining operating time they were rated for, all the way down to mere minutes.

If they were lucky.

"Range confirmed, fire in five!" As suddenly as it had been a mass of bodies clustering down the street, it was a neatly formed open space all the way down the road, for almost a whole kilometer. The targets were in the middle of the street, surrounded by downed friendlies. Their numbers were so high that these soldiers who were ripping us apart were unable to move without first pushing away those that had been downed. They were dead to us anyways, so even if they still remained among the living, they would be joining Tsukasa in mere moments, any way you looked at it.

The driver turned back to me.

"Confirmation for fire, Wisp?" Oh, formalities. I wanted to shoot the ignorant bastard in the face for even daring to look at my perfect figure, as he was no doubt taking the chance to look at my body, but I needed him to drive the thing, so he can live. After all, I do have an awesome rack.

I'll have him killed next week, let him think his dirty thoughts for a few more days.

"Of course. Fire HE shells on marked target." As I said this, a cloud of red smoke appeared in the street.

"Acknowledged. Firing." After perhaps half a second, the entire tank rocked back as the round was fired with a deafening explosion. I laughed as it almost instantly impacted on the target two hundred meters away, kicking up a massive cloud of black smoke, dust, and what was no doubt the chunky red mist of mashed corpses. I used the triggers I had access to to fill the smoke with machine-gun fire, the sound of it pinging into the ground audible even over the general chaos of the world outside.

As the smoke lifted, the crater in the street was deep, and there was no sign of those red fuckers. However, we did hit a lot of our own with shrapnel.

Wait. I don't give a shit.

"Move up, we need to hit the university entrance with another round." The driver jerked in his seat, but had the brains to not turn around, or question the order.

"Understood Whip-sama, We'll have to go through the crater...please hold on to something...or...yeah..."

I sighed loudly, making sure he _knew _I wasn't putting up with his shit, but all the same, I strapped the safety harness, not bothering to mention that it was pressing against my breasts. I'm sure he was already imagining it.

"I'm set, now go." Obediently, he drove us forward, and I felt the decline and ascension of the vehicle as we went through the crater that was recently a spot that was giving us a small bit of trouble. Or most of our trouble. Whatever.

As we hit the road again, I popped the release on the harness, freeing myself from the constraints of it. It reminded me too much of a certain torture device I had made for 'extracting' information from people. This device consisted of a harness you strapped the victim into, and several blades of incredible sharpness mounted to prehensile levers, all of which were attached to a rotating extension. It was used to rip all of the flesh off of someone's limb, and was adjustable, so it really was one size fits all! My oh my, I must make more of those, they were excellent for mind games. And plus, seeing a bare leg attached to a screaming girl who wasn't even in secondary school? The best. Just...yes.

In conclusion, I don't like the restraints in this tank because they remind me of how fucking awesome I am, and sometimes, even I can't deal with me.

There, right in front of us, was the University, where our target lie deep beneath the school in a research lab.

Shit, who started the party without me?

Oh, those aren't friendlies.

-/`""`\\-

The sound of the helicopter blades was virtually non-existent, and it made for the perfect ambush. Especially when they're so pre-occupied on something in the University, or at least one of the surrounding buildings. What could they possibly want from there? All they have is old books and farming robots.

"Hiiragi-san, we are nearing the target! 90 seconds, tops!" I sighed, looking out of the city below, or what was left of it. There wasn't much, and it made me mad. If I had needed a reason to seek revenge before, which I didn't, this would have turned the tables. They've torn apart this city, and left it rotting and dying in their wake. Tokyo was such a beautiful city, and now, more than three-quarters of it is littered with the dead. The remaining quarter is under martial law in order to maintain order, and anyone caught on the streets that isn't in uniform is shot on sight. It's a necessary evil, for the parasites that have corrupted this place are not easy to remove.

"Thirty sec-oh shit, rocket!" In an instant, a beeping came up and the aircraft listed heavily to the right, as well as dropping several feet in altitude. I was strapped in securely, but someone who was not went sailing out of the open side, but as we had been flying so low, it may have only been a 5 meter fall. Not that I'm worried about human lives at this point, but whoever this squad, in this stealth heli, and 3 others, are not normal soldiers, or grunts that I could shoot without blinking.

This is the most elite soldiers I could find, cobbled together into one unit, and equipped with the most advanced technology I could threaten people at gunpoint for. Those Baron suits we had given two teams a few days ago? Those were prototypes, and I'm in the final product. Not these guys, though; gunpoint only lets you do so much when the person you're holding knows that you can't replace them.

Baron and Baroness exoskeletal combat armour, developed in secret and produced in severely limited numbers, as it was prohibitively expensive to manufacture. The prototype armor was intended for anti-vehicle purposes, but it was discovered that an MBT can still punch through the armor at less than 300m with just the force of the round slamming into them, and high-explosive rounds could take down units at over 500m.

My suit, Baroness -II, eliminates that problem. In testing, I saw it take a 120mm HE round to the helmet at 5 m, and it only suffered the damage of getting dirty from the dust kicked up by the explosion.

That is absolutely fucking terrifying, let me assure you. The skull helmet doesn't hurt, either.

"We're clear, continuing to objective!" Suckers, this heli has more flares than I do cervical fractures. Which I can assure you is more than you'd be able to count.

The University was now in sight, and without further ado, I unstrapped myself, walked to the edge of the platform, grabbed my LMG off of the magnet that had secured it for the ride in, and stepped out. These suits made parachutes or any other device unnecessary. And that, my friends, is _fucking awesome._

"Out! Out! Everybody fucking RUN!" The warning was accented with the sound of a utility pole getting thrown through the side of the facade of the University, crushing several people in the process. I had landed on the ground, but that Sekine chick pulled me up and was pushing me towards a hallway within.

Death Incarnate was knocking on the door, and it wasn't waiting for me.

We're being chased into a corner, and I'm not so sure I'll be able to do anything to weasel my way out.

Who's ready for the _basement_?

**A/N: Oh hey. Yeah, I'm still working on this, I just haven't been feeling the fanfic train as of lately. That can change on a dime, however, so I wouldn't too much.**

**With all of the planning I've done, we've got maybe 7-8 chapters left, but they're gonna be of this length, possibly longer. It's kind of confusing, but I assure those who have stuck with me this whole time (thank you so much, by the way) that there is a clear-cut ending, and that it **_**probably **_**won't piss off people too much. Or you know, it will, and that's cool too.**


	14. X:IV

Calamity Plus One

X:IV

This wasn't good, in any sense of the word. The sound of screaming echoed around us as we traveled down the stairwell into the deep recesses of the building. The sound was funneled into the small space, reverberating back onto us. Warrior in front of me, that Raver girl ahead of her, and someone else behind me. The sound of our footsteps clattering on the steel steps were sharp and clear, even over the continuous cacophony coming out of the doorway at the top of the stairs.

Explosions and gunfire punctuated the screams and crashes of objects slamming into each other with frightening frequency, allowing us no direction or comprehension on what exactly was going on outside. The last thing I had seen before dashing into the stairway and out of the destroyed foyer was a figure that appeared to be clad in red battle armour, and wearing a helmet stylized to be a skull. For whatever reason, that thing scared the fucking shit out of me, even more so than Warrior, Miyuki, and Akira all at once. Maybe this had to do with the fact that it was carrying an absurdly massive machine gun in one hand, and was quite literally tearing limbs off of people as they ran by in completely appropriate terror.

The sight of having some guy's head wrenched off of his body in a single jerk was enough to kill any thoughts of attacking this monster. That was the guy who had tried to charge at it as it had quite literally dropped out of the sky, out of a low-flying helicopter. It had just stopped all of his forward momentum by grabbing his arm, before releasing the limb in a flash, grabbing the top of the guy's bandanna-clad head, and rotating it forcibly, ninety degrees to the left. We saw it snap, and though I didn't hear it, I could certainly imagine it.

After that, the blood just belched everywhere as the head was severed faster than we could blink. The figure had dropped the head, and before anyone could react, it jumped backwards to a utility pole that had been standing awkwardly among the carnage of the preceding battle.

It was when it picked it up with a single arm and threw it bodily through the facade of the building, when we all started to run. This was no longer a fight we could win. Not against that thing. But, as with all of our fights, we still had an objective. Plus, with it being so close, we were in a do-or-die situation.

I've got my gun, Raver has her rifle, and Warrior is unarmed. Now might be a good time to kill her, too.

But first, we need to get to that prototype weapon. I'm pretty sure Warrior has the intel on that account, so we have to keep her alive until that is secured.

Maybe I can annihilate her with that thing and make it look like an accident?

Yeah, maybe.

I landed on the ground, my helmet view darkened by the fact that my face was now shoved rather forcefully into the floor by the force of something pretty fuckin' large slamming into my back. It was just a tad painful. By a tad, I mean, nothing broke, but I'll have some fun bruises and swelling and internal bleeding by this evening.

I think I was hit by a tank round. I mean, I had seen one farther down the road, but I had thought it was a friendly. There's no reason for the enemy to have some real firepower, except in a last-ditch effort for something...

All of this screeched to a halt as I saw something that brought a smile to my face in the way a serial killer smiles at the young woman climbing into his car.

I saw her. For just a second, I saw the blue hair flicker within the building, and that was enough to tell me to ignore every other single fucking thing that was going on right now.

Konata, Konata, Konata. You are so _fucking _dead.

Pitching forward, I ran at speeds no human could hope to achieve, barreling over those too slow to flee from me. Their deaths may come later rather than sooner.

I crossed the ruined facade of the massive building in mere seconds, in the process of which avoiding another round from the tank, having hit at the spot I had been occupying moments ago.

I fired at the hulking vehicle, but even armour-piercing sabot rounds did little against a Russian MBT. I left it as it were, turning to enter the building.

Immediately, the ping of small arms fire greeted me. It was more than useless, only alerting me as to what directions they were firing from.

Spooling up the large machine gun's multiple barrels, I sent forth a hail of lead, cutting down all opposition within the main corridor in a deafening screech of metal, human cries, and the muted thump of corpses hitting the floor after their resident inhabitant was wiped out.

Konata was not among them, so it could be assumed that she went further into the building...but where?

Did she go up? Is their target upstairs, in some office?

No.

If that were true, they would've sent some monkey with their metal man to get them. This is a fucking assault. They're going down, for sure. So I'll just follow.

I stooped down to grab a yellow block from one of the corpses, tearing it from the awkwardly positioned arm, no doubt having been snapped by the concussive force of getting slammed into any number of hard, solid objects. Plastique explosives. Perfect. I threw it to the floor, before igniting it with the searing heat from the sabot rounds.

I barely heard, nor felt, the explosion, watching as the ceiling caved in on itself, and as the floor gave way under the excessive weight, and finally, before the whole mass of wrangled metal and detritus dropped through the floor.

I leaned over the edge to see how far it went, before feeling myself being shoved hard from behind, sending me toppling face first into the inky abyss.

As I fell, I turned to see my assailant. The shadows cast by the dim light only belied, maybe, only in my imagination, bare feet and blood trickling down one leg.

Then the whole image was gone, and I was falling.

Thankfully, I was jarred back to reality with the sharp arrival of the floor, and with it, cruel, unrelenting light.

Clawing my way to my feet, the area I was in appeared to be part of a library, with tall shelves of books on both sides of me. I looked up through the hole I had fallen down through, and saw no trace of whatever may or may not have pushed me down the chute.

No matter. It could've been my imagination, after all, and even if it were real, they'd be dead soon. The battle being waged up there is pretty damn deadly, and no normal human can survive the 20 meter fall down here.

So, with that pleasant thought, I got back to the task at hand.

I didn't know something of this scale could be underneath a building in the middle of the city, but I digress. The airport has a good 35 meters below it of nothing but access tunnels and maintenance passages, so I guess it's not _too _crazy to think about.

More to the point, where is my precious little target? I do believe I have to return something to her. Several somethings, perhaps. Little, metal, unfeeling somethings. Or maybe a singular long, hard, slicey-dicey, thing. Is that a word? It's a fucking word now, try to tell me it's not.

Something exploded above us. That is never a good sign. We continued going 'round and 'round on the stairs, almost at the bottom.

Just as my feet hit the concrete floor covered with a threadbare carpet, a resounding crash and thud was heard several feet away, but sounded like it was on about the same level as ourselves.

"This way!" Warrior dashed down an adjacent hallway, urging us to follow. It would be so, _so _easy to just gun her down here. But a mission is a mission, and anything that might be able to stand up against that red murder-cyborg was worth more than my personal vendetta.

Still, it was hard to just follow her as a willing subordinate would. I let Raver start running before I did, to give myself the peace of mind that I was not, in fact, under her control. That _I _was the one in charge, and that I wasn't just a sheep following the shepherd.

We ran for perhaps 20 meters, turning the corner and dashing immediately into the first open door. An enormous bang rang out in the hallway as I stepped over the threshold of the room.

Within was a massive collection of machinery of all shapes and sizes, none of which I could discern the purpose of. With all due haste, we ran like hell to get away from the door, and above the sound of our boots and shoes rhythmic clanging and banging could be heard close by. It sounded like an automotive manufacturing plant was being roughed up by rare-earth magnets: everything colliding with everything, and making one hell of a racket while it was at it.

On a scale of one to ten on the 'oh fuck' scale, I'd say we broke the scale.

"Got it!" Warrior was pulling a large, obscenely old book out of a shelf recessed into the wall.

What in the everloving fuck? Why was she freaking out over a book? I'm...I'm not sure what to think of this.

"What the hell is that, Sekine. That is _not _what we're here for."

She turned to me, not holding the characteristic rage that usually occurs when her name is spoken.

"This is part of the objective. We need this to operate the device." Smooth off of her tongue. Too smooth. I'm almost completely sure that she's lying through her evil teeth. Unfortunately, everything went to shit in a heartbeat when the wall exploded, showering us with rubble and metal, and sending us toppling to the floor.

Hearing an oddly familiar voice accompany it in a modulated fashion didn't help matters much either.

"I know you're in there! Come out to face me like the monsters you are!" Oh shit. Kagami. Does this mean that thing that was fucking shit up a minute ago was her?

Damnit. Now I'm too busy fearing for my life to make an argument against Warrior.

"You're too late, bitch! This battle is ours!" Please, Warrior, you dumb fucking cunt, do _not _anger the commando of ass-kicking while she's wearing an exoskeleton with more ways to kill you than you have functioning brain cells. Not to say that's many, but it's more than I'd like to risk.

The shelving around us began to fall, creating a physical barrier between us and Kagami, but I could see that she was moving in the right direction as we fell to the floor in the confusion. I looked back, but I couldn't exactly make out Raver; it didn't matter, I just need to make it out of here.

I grabbed Warrior's ankle, which was in front of me, and crawled backwards, dragging her with me. After a few meters, we were able to move a bit more, but it was completely dark, and I only saw the glint in her eyes as she stood up with a cough, or maybe that was more debris falling all over the place, making it hard to discern any particular sounds.

"Peekaboo." Around the corner she came, somehow having moved among the wreckage into the clear area at the back of the room, about twenty meters from us, most likely less.

I looked from her, back to the wreckage we crawled out of, making my mind up in an instant.

"RUN!" I grabbed Warrior and bodily pushed her into the wreckage, following in a millisecond. As I started to move, Kagami raised a gun to fire, or maybe she already started to fire, because in that instant, that little corner was illuminated by a flash, and in that brief moment, I saw that Raver woman come out of the side of one of the shelves and jump Kagami, smacking her in the helmet with the stock of her rifle, surprising her. I heard the scream afterwards.

"Stop, you maniacal bitch!"

The wreckage had come out of the floor above, partially, and that was the only way out. Warrior had already made it up, and grabbed my hand, pulling me up into the dimly lit room, as the fight below commenced. The shouting was only comprehensible for a second, but what I heard made me think about who that girl was.

"I was going to give you freedom in exchange for giving her to me, but now you'll be the bait to my holocaust!"

That was easily heard, as her helmet was projecting her voice, even above the constant noise of the surrounding area being destroyed from within by the remaining Hiiragi. Warrior ran for the door, the book still in her hands, urging me to follow.

"Come on, we're getting the fuck out of here!"

I opened my mouth to respond that we should save the other one, as she was apparently important somehow, but I shut up when a shelf from below was launched through the floor, lodging itself in the wall not even a meter away. Living another few seconds was a little bit more important here, unfortunately.

We sprinted out into the hallway, away from the monster that was, and in a stroke of luck, the hallway was directly next to another set of stairs. In a stroke of bad luck, however, there was the silhouette of a person standing in the stairwell, and at this distance of just a few scant meters, blood could be seen trickling down, pooling onto the landing of the concrete stairs.

Warrior was almost to the door when I pulled her aside, pointing to the shadow cast into the hallway, showing the form of a person, their hands in front of their face, perhaps. I went first, with my pistol at the ready.

I pushed open the door, and there, in front of me, standing in the dusty light of the stairwell, clad in nothing but a hospital smock, covered in blood and tears, clutching at herself with literal red hands, was someone frightening familiar, someone whose life I had shattered, and up until this very instance, never felt any remorse for, not even once, not after that small period on that one day.

Misao Kusakabe.

After seeing the people fighting with each other, like it was worth fighting for, I knew I was in a dream. One big, ugly, nasty dream, a dream that wouldn't end unless I made it end. I knew that when I woke up, I would see my little friend's face, and all of my friends would be there too. Hiiragi would chastise for having fallen asleep in class again, and Ayano would give me a sweet smile, and life would go on.

So no matter what I do here, it doesn't matter. Well, except for making myself wake up. That's pretty important.

It felt surreal, walking through the mass of people in the streets, all of them armed to the teeth, some being familiar faces. It was scary, seeing people I thought I knew, dressed in terrorist vogue, carrying guns, all with the look of murder on their faces. I just kept my head down, focusing on putting one bare foot in front of the other.

Why was I still wearing a hospital gown? I wasn't sure, but it didn't matter.

Though, looking down wasn't my best idea ever, because I was soon looking at the body of someone I felt like I knew, maybe. His eyes were glassy, and his torso was a rough mixture of blood and water from a nearby clogged drainage pipe. I leaned over, closing his eyes for him, for no other reason than to stop him from staring at me like _I _was the guilty one, the oneresponsible for ending his life.

As I stood back up, I began to hear sounds, which surprised me slightly. I realized that for a few minutes in this horrible dream, all had been silent, and I had been content to leave it just like that, but something in me wanted to hear the cacophony of murder and the horrors of war first hand, so here they were.

The sound of guns firing, the resounding, repetitive _bangbangbang _of a thousand rifles being aimed at another living being, and the conscious decision to pull the trigger, made my brain scream in horror, not for this situation, but one that I felt that maybe I was at least partially responsible for.

The real horror, though, was the low, resounding booms, powerful enough to make the ground shake, and powerful enough for me to turn to look at the source of the noise.

A few hundred meters back was a hulking red figure in a crater, almost like the super heroes on TV, but this was not any hero, super or not. It had been shooting into a crowd of people indiscriminately, but the loud boom was apparently the large tank next to it, whose cannon was smoking, and yet there appeared to be no damage to the figure.

It was not a hero, no; I was looking at what must be the villain of my dream, and I, as the hero, must conquer my inner demons in order to make peace with myself and wake up.

That's how it works, right? I know I learned that somewhere, but I'm not sure where...probably a book or something. Another question, though. What kind of inner demons do I have that's making me see horror unimaginable? I'm the lazy student! Every day is as good as the last, and they're all good days! Though, that thought feels distant to me somehow...must be because I'm asleep.

So I ran towards the figure, right into the thick of the sideshow of horror that was being acted out in front of me. Everywhere, people shooting at each other, stuff getting thrown around, but I was untouched by this whirlwind. I knew what I had to do.

By the time I caught up to the figure, it had snapped a man's neck and mowed down a whole crowd of people, and it had gone inside a large building of some sort, so I followed. Staying a few meters back, I watched as the person in the suit, or, most likely, the proje toon of my fears in the form of a ghastly monster, took something from a body and blew a hole in the floor, showering me with debris that stung painfully on my exposed skin. I could feel the warm trickle of my own blood flowing down my arms and legs.

The figure leaned over the hole it made, and sizing up my chances, I made my move.

Unaware of how deep the hole was, I simply walked up to them and pushed with all my might, sending them tumbling forward into their recently-created hole. They spun in midair as they fell down the surprisingly deep chasm, perhaps seeing me before they were swallowed by the darkness.

I was ready to wake up, but I didn't.

Okay, so maybe the evil thing didn't die yet...yeah, that's it!

I peered over the edge of the hole, unable to see the bottom, and unable to hear anything at all now, the sounds of gunfire and shouts, all fading into obscurity behind the sound of my own breathing.

I looked around the floor, seeing a staircase marked with a helpful sign, pointing downwards. As I approached it, feeling, but not hearing, my bare feet slap against the gritty tile of the urban war zone, I smelled a particularly strong smell. It smelled like oil, and...something else. Chicken, maybe? I didn't stop to figure out the smell, as there was a way to my goal, so I entered the stairwell, feeling the coolness of the concrete on my feet.

As I did, I heard a single voice shout from not far below me.

"Who's there?! I swear to fucking god, I'll shoot!"

I saw a man at the bottom of that flight of stairs, glaring up at the bright light that shone through the door, contrasting with the dim light of the emergency lighting within the stairwell. He was holding a small pistol, and by the looks of his tattered clothing and a gash on his face, didn't seem to be having a good day.

I raised my hands slowly, not wanting to upset the dream person, because their feelings are my own. I think.

I closed the door behind me with one hand, keeping the other up, and standing where I was as his eyes adjusted.

"What the hell? Why are you in that?" He was referring to the hospital gown, I hope. I gave him my honest answer; it wouldn't do to be dishonest with myself.

"I'm in a dream, so I don't know why I'm in a hospital gown. I pushed the root of my inner demons into a hole, so I was coming down here to finish it off so I can wake up." He just looked at me in disbelief, still holding the pistol at me.

I moved down the stairs to him, standing on the landing, where he dwarfed me in size.

"You know, I think this whole dream world is telling me I'm guilty, and that just by being alive to see something as horrible as this happen, I'd be cheating myself by saying it isn't happening at all."

The gun came down, as though the little part of me in this man was clicking. But that wasn't it at all.

"Oh, I see now. You're a fucking loony who gets all kinds of shit put in ya so the chemists department can save a fuckin' fortune on test subjects and renting patients from the crazy ward. Great. Just what I needed. I'M GOING TO DIE IN THIS FUCKING PLACE!" He shouted the last sentence to the ceiling, waving his hand which still contained a pistol all over the place, before gazing back at me with bared teeth.

"Alright, you little bitch, what would you do if I told you I was going to send your stupid ass back up there into the meat grinder, or that I was contemplating on killing you?" Another challenge, it seems, before I can fight my inner self, apparently. I'm not crazy! I haven't ever done any drugs, either, so it seems this guy was just testing my inner strength. Something I'm not short on. It may appear that I'm lazy and can't get anything done, but that's just when I don't feel like doing anything. A majority of the time, for now, but once I'm done with school, there won't be anything between me and my ambitions!

So it shouldn't be anything bad to remove him from my path, right? It's just a dream, so it might be a convincing situation, but I know it's not real. He's not real, the ground I'm walking on isn't real, the people outside killing each other aren't real, and the gun in this guy's hand isn't real, either. If I 'kill' him, that's okay too, because it's not real. I won't be charged with murder, and his family won't harass me with death threats, because none of this, absolutely none of this, is real.

I looked at him, and gave him my straight answer.

"I'd kill you, take your gun, and continue onwards to my goal. You wouldn't do anything about it either; it's like Abraham with Isaac and Ishmael, whether or not he was able to trust in his faith as he did, and whether or not he would sacrifice so much for that which he believed in."

The man took a step back, aiming the pistol at my forehead, a snarl forming on his face.

"You're absolutely fucking crazy. I don't doubt you one bit, and that fucking scares me. If you try to pass me on these fuckin' stairs, I'll shoot you dead. Get the fuck out of here."

I stood still, weighing my options. What would happen if he 'killed' me? Would I wake up in the same place as I had before, and be forced to tromp through this horror all over again, or would that be the end of my dream, my chance to make things right with myself?

I wasn't about to find out. I decided, it's now or never, me or him, and it won't be him. I stepped towards him, stopping right in front of him, causing him to step backwards, where he looked back, trying to find the edge of the landing.

As he found it, I pushed him down, just as I had pushed that red monster mere minutes ago. His descent down the concrete steps was less than graceful, punctuated with yells and cries of pain. I do believe I heard a few things snap, and as he collided with the wall of the next landing, I could see blood smears on a few of the steps. His pistol had been flung somewhere, most likely off to the bottom of the stairwell; I would claim it after I was finished dealing with this man, this test of my own mental creation.

The man was on his back, looking up to me with a look of incredulity, and a face that was not only extremely angry, but dripping blood from a broken nose. One of his legs appeared broken, and as such, he was trying his best not to move.

As I stepped onto the landing with him, he flinched back, afraid of what was to come next.

I wasn't even sure of what to do. I was thinking this was all too real, that it had to be real, and that I had just done something horrible.

But, on the other hand, I knew that to be a lie. This man was nothing, nothing but another little person who ran around in my head, making me tick when I wanted to tick. I didn't care for nothing, and that same amount of nothing would not care for me.

Something else, though, was making me angry at this man. His gun, being pointed at me, made me recoil in fear internally, and I did not know why. It was just a gun, was it not? Did I have some horrible experience with guns? I doubt it; guns are illegal here, and because I don't _do _anything illegal, it's unlikely I've ever been near one, except for perhaps when soldiers stand outside the airport when I go with my older brother to the big baseball games every year, wherever they're held. It's a yearly tradition for us.

But nevermind that, because I was having second doubts now. I _know _this isn't real, but even then, I don't seem to be able to let myself do anything as morally wrong as killing someone. But wait! I just injured this imagination man without a second thought. I justified it in my mind! Why is there such a big difference?

There isn't. There isn't much of a difference, and I'm telling myself that there's a large difference, one large enough to prevent me from doing it, and preventing me from attaining my goals.

Well, it was, up until now. I thought of how I would end this man who was wreaking havoc with my emotions. Do I strangle him?

No, that doesn't actually kill them. It just knocks them unconscious, so he could awake and threaten me later. That's not going to happen.

I looked at him. He looked back at me, and it appeared that whatever he saw, he didn't like. He tensed up, backing into the wall, what little he could. He grimaced as he moved his leg, as the action was no doubt extremely painful.

Applying what I had learned on the internet, and in what little I paid attention to in Biology, I knew that a messy, but effective way of killing someone, was to rip out their jugular. That could be done with your teeth, easily.

I dropped to my knees, moving alongside the man, cupping his head gently with one hand, and pressing down on his stomach with the other. He didn't know what to expect.

"What the fuck! A fucking schizo?! Go to hell!" I stopped him there though, as I bared my teeth, with him no doubt seeing that little, sharp tooth that stuck out on the side, which was apparently endearing in some circles. Though I doubt this particular man found it as such.

I held his head fast, and using my other arm for support, swooped in and, with all my might, clamped my teeth on his neck, right where his external jugular vein was. He screamed, flailing his arms, trying to hit me, but I was laying across him partially, making him unable to fight back, especially with his bum leg.

I gnashed my teeth as I cut through the skin, causing more of a rip in the side of his neck, and, feeling the blood gush out, moved my head slightly, so as to not inhale blood when I breathed in. I pulled away for a second to admire my handiwork, but I still wasn't done.

Though that vein was now severed and pumping blood out, he was using one hand to block it, though his hands were now deep red as blood flowed through them. He stared at me, still gritting his teeth with the pain, and I knew he wasn't dead yet.

But, it dawned on me that he was sitting against a concrete wall, and had nowhere to move to. I stood up, wiping my bloodied hands on my gown, looking at him, all of his hate for me being magnified by the torture I had just given him, but it would be all over for him in a mere minute anyways.

Bothering to taste the blood that had made it's way into my mouth, I tasted the distinct iron taste that someone had told me made blood delicious. Dracula, perhaps?

He looked at me, but uttered nothing as I sealed his fate.

I grabbed the railing for stability, brought my leg back as much as I could, and kicked him in the face as hard as I could. I heard the crack when his skull impacted against the wall.

He fell forward, the tense state of his body going away with what was either the state of death, or a debilitating brain injury. I bent down, placing my hands in the blood that soaked his shirt, before bring them back up, just so I could look at them.

I looked back up to the door, realizing again the sounds that had been all but silent for these few minutes. Still screams, still suffering, still nothing of which I was taking part in, so they slowly became silence once again.

I started walking down the stairs, thinking about what I had just done. In the comfort of my own mind, I had killed a man. Sure, he meant nothing to nobody, but I had still ended his existence. The blood on my hand was his, and no other. The blood in my mouth was as well, in just the same way.

I sat down on a landing several down from where I entered, staring at my hands.

Little things didn't add up.

I should be able to remember where I was before I fell asleep. I could not. I should be able to tell myself where I was the day before, a week ago, a month ago, my adress, who I was living with, what I had to eat last. I could not.

Where did the dream end and reality begin? Was I awake, and all of this, this horrible dream, was nothing but a waking nightmare?

That's when the sounds above became louder, and did not fade away, as they had previously. I could hear the explosions, the gunfire, the screaming, the yelling, as I was slowly convinced that I was not going to be escaping this dream. That I was the stranger in this crazy world, instead of this world being the stranger in my head.

I needed to know for sure, though. If this _were _my dream, which I'm starting to doubt, I should be able to control it.

'Okay, self, I want a dead cat to fall out of the roof and onto the ground in front of me.'

I waited.

Nothing.

Oh god.

I grabbed myself, trying to stop the trembling that overtook me as I suddenly became aware of how cold it was in that stairwell.

I stood there for who knows how long, staring at the door in front of me, feeling the blood covering my hands make its' way through my hospital gown, and down my arms. My legs started to trickle blood as well, or maybe they never stopped; I think I was hit with shrapnel earlier.

As I began to think about why, how, and where, I saw a familiar face in front of me, through the door. At least, I think it was familiar.

Short, blue hair, gun? Sounds familiar. Well, without the gun. The hell do I know is familiar, now? I might have just killed someone! I'm...I don't know anymore...

I looked at her, and she looked at me, tears in her eyes.

She fell sobbing into me, grabbing me with hands caked in blood, screaming into my chest for what felt like a long time. It probably was, as I couldn't move, couldn't do anything.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

Reality is catching up with me.


End file.
